Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Addicted ❯ One-Shot

Author's Notes: It's midnight and I can't spell worth shit so excuse me if these notes are a little … aosdjfhdjf. XD Anyways, this is my second yaoi fic ever, but I like it better than my last one =D It's also twice as long *sweatdrop* but as such, it's twice as good! But be warned, this fic will take you to the highest of highs! And then the lowest of lows! But in reverse direction! xD It's just really dark, yeah. My major source of inspiration was the movie Trainspotting which, if you haven't seen it, GO WATCH IT! (Although it's a tad - and by tad I mean really - graphic, so make sure you're ready.) And if you have seen it, I tried to capture that darkness. Dunno if I did at all or not but … enough of my ramblings. Please comment if you read it though, I worked hard on this ^^;; (And just another note; if you're not comfortable with drug use, don't read. I can't be too careful!) (Also, there are two songs in here which I felt fit the story well, so I put them where I thought they would fit best; but I also but the song title and band, so don't sue me! I just felt that they fit!)

 

 

Hughes was starting to become suspicious of Roy.

 

Ever since he'd come back from Ishbal, he'd been very distant - which was understandable, but it was to the point where it was starting to affect major areas of his life. He would randomly leave in the middle of meetings with some stupid excuse and not come back, or make up other excuses not to go places or do things with his comrades. He was becoming very isolated and closed-off, and yet being at work didn't necessarily mean being social; he could choose to be away from people if he wanted and yet he still made excuses not to come more often than usual.

 

Hughes could understand being distant but, he figured that the Flame alchemist would at least try to act normally, but he never questioned Roy, figuring that he needed his space. As the days progressed however, he started to think that it wasn't just Ishbal that was doing this to him … it was something else, something that he wanted to know deeply to help his friend but he couldn't ask, maybe fearing the answer or just hoping that it would go away on its own. It was only when he started shirking on things that him and Mustang used to do together all the time that he started to really get worried.

 

“Hey Roy, where are you going?” asked Mäes, jogging up beside his friend.

 

“Out to lunch …” the colonel replied in a rather far-off voice. He kept walking, not stopping for his friend, and seemed rather anxious to get where he was going.

 

“Mind if I tag along?” the other man asked jovially; they usually had lunch together to discuss things and relax, and he was sure that Roy wouldn't turn him down, but he was rather surprised when he heard a,

 

“Yeah, I do actually. This is a … sort of private thing and … I need to go.” from Roy before he rushed out the door, walking at a rather fast pace and soon disappearing from Hughes' sights. The lieutenant colonel just stood there at the doors, rather dazed at his friend's behaviour. Sure he could cut out of meetings and miss an occasional day of work, but turning down his best friend was not something that the normal Mustang did.

 

 

Where have I been, all this time?

Lost in sliding, fatal decline.

I've been waiting for this to unfold,

But …

The pieces are only as good as the whole.

 

“Danger - Keep Away” by Slipknot

 

Over the next few weeks, he started doing things like that more often, and if he was trapped in a place too long without any real excuse to leave he tended to become very agitated and jumpy, and often snapped at people for no reason. When he would finally get to leave, once he came back - which was often an hour or longer, sometimes he didn't come back at all even - he was very calm, to the point of almost asleep, and he could barely hold a conversation.

 

Soon, the strange instances increased exponentially. He was missing almost a day a week at least, not to mention all of the half-days, saying that he wasn't feeling good and was going home. He began looking very pale, and looked as though he'd also lost a lot of weight, and his eyes seemed less bright, as though he'd lost all hope for the world. Hughes thought it was a wonder that he came to work at all; he would never finish any of his paperwork or complete his duties, and he felt that he should definitely try to get Roy to get his act together soon or else he was in danger of being fired. He was his best friend and he couldn't let him do this to himself, no matter how depressed the man was. Once he'd decided this, he soon found himself in front of Roy's office door, and he gently knocked on it, hearing a soft “What is it?” come from the other side.

 

“It's Hughes. I need to talk to you.”

 

“Fine, come in.”

 

Mäes quietly shut the door behind him before plopping himself down on one of the couches, crossing his feet on the table. He then gazed up at his friend who looked like he hadn't gotten any sleep in days, yet he'd just gotten back from two days of sick-leave. “Roy, I'm worried about you.” he said, a concerned look showing on his face as he eyed his friend's less than healthy condition.

 

“I'm fine.” came the terse response; it looked like he was becoming agitated again, and it wasn't even noon yet. Usually when he became like this it was right before lunch but the day had just started.

 

Hughes became even more worried as he noticed this, and responded with, “No you're not. You have repeated absences, are always sick, act like you haven't slept in days and, quite frankly, you look like shit. You've also lost a lot of weight and are very pale … I think you should go to the nurse and get checked out, because you're worrying the hell out of me.” he said firmly, giving him a stern look.

 

“I told you Mäes, I'm fine.” the man said, seeming firm in his statement as well. “I'm just a little under the weather today.”

 

“That doesn't excuse what you've been doing for the last three months! You've been like this ever since Ishbal, and I understand why you'd be depressed but you can at least talk to someone about it!”

 

“I don't need help. Nothing's wrong.” Roy answered, now glaring defiantly at his desk, not looking Hughes in the eyes.

 

“Dammit Roy, I know you're not, so quit bullshitting me! I'm your best friend, the least you can do is tell me what's bothering you. I don't like seeing you like this!” Mäes pleaded, becoming somewhat annoyed with the other man's stubbournness. But he knew he had to get to the bottom of it now, before it was too late. He even feared that he had waited too long already, but he had to keep trying. Roy didn't say anything; instead he just hardened his glare at his desk, stubbournly not giving Hughes the information he needed so badly. Hughes felt Mustang's pain rake across his own heart at not being able to do anything, and he wouldn't settle for seeing him like this.

 

Standing up, he walked over to the desk and slammed his hands down on it, making Roy jump. “For fuck sake Roy! I'm trying to help you and you won't even let me! And I'm probably the only person who's pig-headed enough to try and get through your shit and even attempt it! Everyone else just thinks you'll snap out of it but I fear that if I wait too long something will happen! I can't let that weigh on my conscience while I know there's still something I can do!” he said, glaring strictly at the younger man.

 

Roy finally looked at him, and Hughes almost gasped as he saw the swirl of emotions that were once hidden from him. It was what he'd feared; guilt, despair, fright, abandonment, shame, doubt … and yet behind all of that there seemed to be something else, a kind of thing which seemed to be poisoning him, sucking out everything that he'd once loved. He had no idea what it was but he wondered if that was his problem, if that's what was causing all of this. The rest could be overcome with time but it seemed that whatever that last thing was held any recovery back, impeding it and ultimately letting them have free rein over the man. He forgot his anger for a moment until the other man stood up as well, glowering at Mäes.

 

“There's nothing you can do, Mäes. Just let it go. Let me go.”

 

Hughes' once softened eyes immediately hardened again, and he grabbed Roy by his shirt collar, pulling him only an inch from his face. “Don't give me that SHIT!” he yelled, “If I told you that I wanted to commit suicide, or whatever your problem is, wouldn't you try to help me? Wouldn't you do your damnedest to save me?” he asked, and Roy looked off to the side distantly.

 

“I don't know. If I say yes then you'll tell me that this is the same thing, but I can't say no because I think I would.”

 

Mäes gave Mustang a bit of a shake to get his attention back on him before saying, “You would then. So why aren't you letting me save you?” he asked, pleadingly.

 

“Because I'm not worth saving.”

 

Hughes let go of Roy with a shove, turning around and rubbing his head, cursing under his breath. “Fuck, Roy. You're being really stupid about this, you know? Why the hell do I even try.” he muttered, and Mustang's eyes darkened.

 

“I don't know, that's what I'm trying to tell you. You shouldn't try. It's not worth the stress for you.”

 

Hughes turned around, and gazed at him sadly. “I didn't mean it. I know why I'm trying, and I'll try until my very last breath if I have to. I just said that because you're being idiotic right now. What will it take me to get you to snap out of it?”

 

“Nothing can. As far as I'm concerned, I'm already dead.” He said, looking back to Mäes with eyes that suggested that very thing, and the lieutenant colonel could barely say anything.

 

“Roy …” he started, but Mustang shook his head.

 

“I've got to go. I'll be back later.” he said, but Hughes grabbed his arm

 

“That's another thing ... where do you go all the time?” he asked, and Roy tried to pull away but his grip didn't loosen.

 

“Nowhere, I just, I need to go … I told you, I'll be back. Just let me go.”

 

“Roy …” Hughes said, pulling his arm closer to him and frowning at it. “Why is your hand shaking?”

 

“I told you, I need to go!” Mustang said a little louder, and managed to pull away from his comrade, getting through the door before Mäes could stop him.

 

“What the hell …?” he mumbled to himself, frowning confusedly and deciding not to follow. But something was definitely up, something that Roy wasn't telling him. Something that he would get to the bottom of, whether the colonel liked it or not. He decided - and this might've been influenced by what he did in his own job - that he would wait a little longer and collect information from wherever he could to try and get an idea of what the Flame alchemist was up to, starting with when Roy came back; if he actually did end up coming back. Having free time at the moment, which was part of the reason why he'd come to visit his friend, he decided to look up the days that Mustang had missed, among other things to see if he found any pattern.

 

After two hours of digging around, he emerged with not much more of an idea than when he'd started, but at least it had passed the time until said person came back into his office, looking a lot less anxious, but a lot more distant. Walking up to him, Hughes frowned, intent on continuing his interrogation. Roy just sat down heavily into his chair, gazing up at the older man with a rather dazed look on his face. “What're you still doing here Mäes?” he asked, blinking a few times.

 

“I'm here because we never finished our conversation!” he glared, thinking it was obvious.

 

“We didn't? Oh …” the colonel said, his voice almost drifting off.

 

Hughes was about to get angry again but then cocked an eyebrow as he observed Mustang. “Something isn't right …and his hand has stopped shaking, I wonder why …?” he thought to himself, and then voiced his suspicions. “Why are you acting so differently? You seem … out of it.” he asked, and he didn't even need is innate skill for reading people to figure out that the man had definitely done something when he was gone, and whatever it was it, seemed to be doing something to affect the way he perceived things.

 

“I do? Well I didn't do anything, really, I just went to see my friend as usual … But that's none of your business anyways.” he said, finally sharpening up a bit. “You shouldn't be poking around like this. If you wouldn't mind, I have work to do … I think …” he said, looking around at the papers on his desk.

 

“Alright Roy, I'll stop poking. For now. But the second you do something strange again, I'll be there, and I'll find out what you're up to. I'm not giving up, not until I see you back to normal.” he said, making sure Roy had heard him before turning around and leaving, closing the door behind him without even looking back. Although he still didn't get anything conclusive, he started putting things together inside his head, frowning as he walked. “So, I figure whatever he did distorted how he views things, along with messing with his memory because there's no way he could've forgotten that conversation so fast. Also, the shaking hands before he left and the anxiousness leads me to believe that whatever he did when he was gone satisfied something that he really needed, or at least, what his body needed. I wonder …” Hughes then stopped, frowning harshly at the ground. “No … Roy …How could you? If this is what I think it is, it's only a matter of time before he slips up …Fuck!” He raked his hands through his hair before continuing walking, fearing that the situation had just gotten a hundred times worse.

 

 

Hughes stayed true to his word, and when Mustang's work finally caught up to him and he had to stay overtime on a Friday night, Mäes volunteered to stay as well, under the guise that he had unfinished work as well but he was really staying to try and confront Roy with his suspicions now that the office was empty. He didn't want to make a scene of it, or for anyone else to know - for Roy's sake. He would give the man a way out of it if he wanted, and no one would have to know, therefore his career, and his pride, would be saved. Taking a deep breath, Hughes opened the door to Roy's office, and started talking. “Roy, I've figured out your secret and I'm going to try and help you with it, but first you'll need to tell m- … Roy? Roy?!” As his eyes looked over to where the man normally would've been sitting, he didn't see him, but instead saw a hand on the ground behind his desk, and a tuft of black hair; the rest of his body was blocked by the wooden piece of furniture.

 

Mäes ran over to the desk, and a look of surprise crossed his face as he observed Roy's unconscious body lying on the ground, looking as though he'd fallen off his chair with the top of his uniform having been taken off beforehand. He then noticed a belt wrapped securely around his left arm, along with the arm's accompanying white sleeve having been rolled up, the pinprick-sized drop of blood just below it being a sharp contrast to the pale flesh around it. A little ways from the limb was its brother, whose fingers were only inches from the final incriminating factor;

 

An empty needle.

 

Hughes cursed under his breath as his suspicions were confirmed, and he dropped to his knees, heaving Roy into his lap, placing two fingers on the side of the man's neck to check for a pulse. It took a moment, but he finally found it, although it was dangerously slow, and he knew that every second that he stalled brought his best friend closer to his morbid wish of dying. Standing up, he bent down quickly and grabbed the younger man, pulling him up and throwing him over his shoulder with a grunt, rushing as fast as he could out the door to get him to a hospital. A slightly morose thought crossed his mind just then, “All of this not eating has certainly made him easier to carry at least …” He then shook his head and quickly rid himself of the notion, concentrating on the fastest way to get the man help as he felt his own heartbeat pounding in his head, a searing anxiety tearing at his soul at the thought of him being too late.

 

He didn't know quite how he did it. Whether he'd driven or just carried the Flame alchemist the whole way, but before he knew it, his friend was in the emergency room, on a hospital bed, the nurses hurriedly searching for the one thing that could pull him out of it. “Please don't be too late, please don't be too late, please don't be too fucking late … Fuck, Roy, you can't do this to me …You can't end this way …” he pleaded in his own mind, raking his hands through his hair as he watched a nurse finally come up with the drug, Narcan. They used the arm that was already set up and pushed the needle of what was supposed to save Mustang's life into his veins, probably just like the man had done only awhile before, only this time, the drug entering his body would do the opposite, meant to kill a high instead of induce one.

 

“Don't you dare die on me you bastard …I never got a chance to really help you yet! It had better not be too late; I could never forgive myself …”

 

 

I can't feel …

`Cause I'm numb …

I can't feel …

`Cause I'm numb …

So what's the worth …

In all of this? (All of this …)

What's the worth …

In all of this?

 

“Sing” by Blur

 

A dark haze filled Roy's mind, clouding his judgement and feelings, and yet that wonderfully euphoric and now familiar feeling enclosed every fibre in his being with the too-good-to-be-true high he got with every hit, making him not really care about anything. Not care about the fact that he'd maybe taken a little too much, not care about the fact that he was now lying on the floor, his breathing becoming unstable, not care about the fact that he was pretty much alone in this place with no one to save him … The ecstasy which the drug induced made him not even care about his lungs' desperate, burning for air, his intoxicated mind brushing the need aside like he'd brushed aside Hawkeye's criticisms for not getting his work done countless times, deeming this just as unimportant. Unluckily for him, breathing was rather important, and before he knew it, the familiar fog in his mind surrendered to an unfamiliar blackness, the thought of trying to snap out of it crossing his mind for only a fleeting second before becoming lost like every other coherent thought did when he was in this state. No thought, no matter how important, was immune.

 

 

Roy was dimly aware of a bright light above his eyes, but he didn't really come out of the blackness until he felt the sharp sting of a needle entering his arm, becoming confused as to why he was getting a needle without it being administered by himself. He then became even more confused when he didn't experience the familiar rush of bliss that accompanied such a pinprick, but suddenly - much like when that sort of thing did happen - he couldn't think his own thoughts at all as one word screamed through his mind as if someone were yelling it right next to his ear:

 

BREATHE!

 

Roy sat up straight in the bed, positively gasping for breath, his heart feeling like it was going a million miles a minute. His eyes were wide and he clutched at the sheets on the bed as the drug which they'd given him acted like pure adrenaline, forcing his entire respiratory system into overdrive, which was a huge shock to him considering he'd been in a comatose-like state only seconds before. He saw little stars dancing in the corners of his vision as the sudden rush of oxygen reached his brain, and he fell back down into the bed, still panting heavily, his body now confusedly sore. “What the hell just happened?” he wondered, and felt that comforting, long sought-after bliss being torn away from him, his high effectively crashed by whatever the nurses had given him. His senses were painfully heightened now that he wasn't in the dimmed numbness that he was used to, and he heard a woman's voice at the end of his bed as clear as if she was next to him, apparently talking to someone that he couldn't see; his eyes were hurting too much to keep open in the presence of the glaring light above him.

 

“It looks like you got him here in time. He should be okay now; the Narcan is designed to pull them out of their high by blocking the opium receptors in the central nervous system, which takes away the sort of … fog in their mind. This then lets messages from the body get through that couldn't before, like - when they're bad enough to get brought here this is usually the case - their lungs needing oxygen or their heart needing to beat. The sudden shock of the build-up of these urgent messages forces their body to respond without them thinking, and they usually start to breathe again, as you can see.” he guessed that she motioned towards him as she said this, but no matter how hard he fought, the intense pain in his eyes that resulted from opening them even a crack forced him to keep them closed as he listened.

 

“So, he's alright now? What'll happen to him now that you've killed his high?” he heard a familiar voice ask, and vaguely wondered why it sounded like Hughes.

 

“Yes, he's okay because he's breathing now and pretty soon his respiratory functions should return to normal as well. But unless he gets another hit soon, he's going to start suffering from withdrawal symptoms a lot faster than usual, which will be a pretty big shock to his body.”

 

“He's not getting another hit, I'm going to make sure of that.” the male voice said sternly, and a flash of worry crossed Roy's mind.

 

“He isn't talking about me, is he? What is he going to do to stop me anyways?”

 

“Well,” the female voice started, “If you want to get him off of it, we can give him regular, eventually decreasing doses of methadone or another drug which will help him ease off of it, or he can do it cold turkey which will be shorter, but a lot more painful. I'd suggest the treatment but, it's up to … well I guess you since he can't legally make his own decisions while he's intoxicated. I'm guessing you're a friend?”

 

Hughes contemplated her answer for a bit before saying anything. “Yes. I'm going to be the one who takes care of him and gets him off of this shit, because I can't stand to see him like this. I've only found out about his addiction recently, otherwise I would've done something sooner. However, I think it's best for him to quit as fast as he can so that he can maybe get back to work sooner; he's already missed a lot of days and I'll have to pull a lot of strings to not get him fired. What's the sort of thing I'll be in for when the withdrawal starts?” he asked, and Roy tried his best to pay attention as well, his mind surprisingly clear now.

 

“Well, once the onset starts - which should be in less than an hour even - he'll start experiencing excessive sweating, intense headaches, nausea, cramps, chills, fever … and that's only the start. Extended effects are things like anxiety, depression, vomiting, cold sweats - especially at night - and he probably won't be able to sleep properly for days, lending to general heaviness and fatigue, and hallucinations. Paranoia and past traumatic experiences are a major factor as well; his emotional state will be in ruins until it's over, and he'll probably be pleading with you endlessly, trying every trick in the book to get another hit. But if you ever did give him another, he'd have to start back at day one again, and I'm sure you wouldn't want that for him.

 

“The only reason I tell you all of this is that if you really are going to take care of him, you'll have to be ready for anything. There's a big chance that he'll become very violent as well, but considering that he'll be so weak from everything he wouldn't be much of a threat unless he had a weapon. But, considering all things, you should probably keep him isolated for the first while, only letting him out of his room to go to the bathroom. Even then you should hang around in case he tries to do anything; you never know what lengths they'll go to when they're like that. He probably won't eat much either, but he'll be okay even if he doesn't eat for the entire withdrawal period; he'd probably just throw it up anyways. I know it doesn't sound good but he will be able to survive as long as you make sure he's drinking lots of water to replace the lost fluids. It should take about three weeks before he's fully sober, however.”

 

Roy's mind blanched, and he would've gasped had he been coherent enough. “I'm … going to have to go through all of that? Three …weeks!? But why do I feel fine now?” but he already felt the stiffness in his joints begin to creep further into his muscles, and even though he stretched his legs, it didn't do anything to relieve the feeling, and his heart raced as he wondered if he was on the brink of utter destruction - which is the phrase that his mind had associated all those symptoms with. But as the high had left him, the thing that he'd been trying to forget when he'd taken it rushed back into his mind, and he moaned in pain as he remembered. “Mom … dad … no …” he thought, feeling like he would give anything in the world for another hit, to forget again.

 

He then heard the male voice speaking to the nurse again, “I'm going to go get my things from the office and come back to take him to my place. Will he be okay here until I get back?” The nurse then answered with a nod that Roy couldn't see, and he heard footsteps retreating, leaving him feeling rather alone as the women closed the curtains around him, letting him try to make sense of himself. A silent tear rolled down his cheek as they turned off the light, leaving only the dimmed lights behind the curtain for brightness, and he was forced to deal with the full blow of what had happened to him, alone.

 

 

Stepping into Roy's office for the second time that night, Hughes walked over to his desk again to pick up the coat, but then stopped when he saw the needle still lying there. Frowning, he also noticed one of the drawers in his desk was ajar, and he opened it, finding nothing out of the ordinary. Just as he was about to close it, he saw a strange tab thing, and pulled on it, revealing a secret compartment in the desk which held two more needles and Roy's emergency pistol. Sighing deeply to himself, he shook his head a bit, and removed the other two syringes, closing the compartment and the drawer, and also carefully picking up the empty one on the ground, disposing of them all before picking up the blue uniform coat. “Ahh Roy. What the hell have you done to yourself?”

 

 

Less than a half an hour later, both of the men were in Mäes' otherwise empty house, Hughes lightly tossing the other man onto his bed before sitting on it's edge, ready to confront him before his symptoms became too prominent and affected his judgement. Roy just blearily looked around, feeling as if that bright light was over his eyes again when it was actually pitch black, although his screaming head said otherwise. “Roy … you can either tell me what you've been doing easily, or I can get it out of you the hard way. Your choice.”

 

Roy just groaned, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he saw the stern look that only Hughes could pull off in that way, and he sighed. “It started in Ishbal.” he murmured, thinking back to the horrible time. “I wanted to forget what I'd done … and some guys told me that they could help me out. They gave me the first one for free, but then after that I had to buy it from them, but it was cheap since it's really quite easy to smuggle drugs around during a war. After we came home it became harder for me to get but I would do anything for it; I was hopelessly addicted since the first time. After it got worse, I'd start cutting out of work like you know to get it, and I started to need it more often. And then sometimes I'd get so high that I wouldn't sleep or barely move for days at a time, lending to those extended absences and the `acting like I haven't slept in days' thing you accused me of.”

 

Mäes' eyes softened, wishing that he'd figured it out sooner before his friend had been reduced to such a state, feeling incredibly guilty. “So, what happened tonight?”

 

Mustang looked off to the side, groaning again. “I don't want to talk about it.”

 

“Roy …” came the firm voice of the other man, and he groaned again.

 

“I already told you everything else. I accidentally overdosed okay?”

 

“I don't believe that.”

 

“Fuck, Mäes.” Roy rubbed his eyes, wishing that the other man couldn't see through him so easily. “My parents were in a fucking car crash, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

 

“What …?” Hughes' confused response asked, his brow knitting together as he frowned.

 

“I got the call just before I OD'ed. Both of them were killed instantly. I couldn't handle it, I wanted to forget just like I wanted to forget everything else. I guess I just took a little too much to do that. Can you just leave me alone now?” he asked as a breath hitched in his throat, a sob threatening to escape his mouth. He exhaled shakily as he tried to steady himself, and Hughes stayed silent for a moment, not really knowing what to say.

 

“I'm sorry Roy …” he started but Mustang cut him off.

 

“I don't give a fuck, Mäes. Nothing you do or say is going to make it easier. Just … just leave me alone!” he said, finally breaking down and bringing his hands up to cradle his head, trying to hide the tears from his friend but to no avail. He shut his eyes tight and clenched his teeth in an attempt to keep his emotions down but before he knew it, Hughes had pulled him into a sitting position and Roy was crying his eyes out into his shoulder, all thoughts of restraining himself soon being lost, just as vulnerable as the rest of his thoughts back when he was high.

 

“Shit, Roy … I'm so sorry you had to bring that up … I shouldn't have made you tell me, but the last time I let something go you ended up almost dying …” Mäes thought to himself, shifting slightly so that he could properly wrap his arms around the younger man, feeling Roy's own arms crawling up and around his neck, the man unsure of what he should be doing to try and get more comfort but seeming to think that was a good idea. It took him quite awhile before his shuddering sobs ceased, and he stilled, sniffing slightly but not letting go of his friend.

 

He then heard a mumble come from somewhere around his collarbone, “Before we get me off of this shit, I need one more hit to tide me over, okay? Just to get me through this.”

 

Hughes' eyes darkened, and he pulled back a bit. “No Roy, I can't let you otherwise we'll have to wait again for your symptoms to start and it'll take longer before you're sober.”

 

Roy's eyes widened slightly, “Come on Mäes, just one more; I swear to god it'll be the last time!”

 

“I thought you didn't believe in god.”

 

“Fuck, Mäes! I need this!” he said, becoming more frantic. He could feel that need clawing at his insides, tearing at his mind and not letting him forget that it was hungry, and that he needed to abate it with one more needle before it would settle for awhile. When denied, the beast tore harder, Roy feeling like it was yelling in his mind for him to get another hit, to do anything to feel the pure euphoria running through his veins, telling him to deny all else but the attainment of this one thing.

 

Hughes felt a stabbing pain in his heart as he was forced to shut down all emotion and keep denying his friend the very thing that he felt he needed most. “No, Roy, you don't. I'm sorry but you're going to have to go without.”

 

Roy looked like he was going to explode but before he did, he said “Okay, fine. Just let me to go my office, I forgot something there.”

 

“I already brought everything from your office that you left, and I disposed of your last two needles so that won't work either.”

 

“WHAT!?” he shouted, “Those cost a lot of money! For fuck sake Mäes! I NEED THIS!” The beast reared up inside Mustang, and to him, it roared deafeningly loud right next to his eardrum, sending a searing pain through his head unlike any migraine he'd ever gotten from work. It raked its claws along the inside of his skull and thrashed around, and he could swear that he now had fracture marks where solid bone used to be.

 

Hughes stood up off the bed, Roy's fingers clawing at him but he was too weak to really get a good grip and he fell back into the soft sheets as the older man glared at him sharply. “You're staying here, and I'm getting you off of this shit no matter what. It doesn't matter what you say, and even though it's going to tear me apart to see you in pain, one day, you'll thank me.”

 

Roy felt like yelling at Mäes, but the second he opened his mouth he let out a loud groan instead and put both hands to his head as if to hold it from splitting apart, his eyes shut so tight he could see stars. He rolled over onto his side and brought his knees up to his chest, acting as though if he curled up small enough the pain couldn't find him, and let out another strangled groan, air hissing through his teeth. Hughes' determination faltered in his eyes for only a second before he walked to the door. “I'll be sleeping on the couch until you're better, but if you open this door, I'll know, so don't try and escape.” he said before walking through and closing the door. Roy seemed to have mustered the strength for one last attempt as Hughes heard his voice through the walls; loud, harsh, and wild.

 

“I NEED ANOTHER HIT MÄES!” he screamed, his voice sounding hoarse. “I SWEAR I'LL DIE IF I DON'T GET ONE!” He then stopped to pant for a moment from the pain before going on again. “YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW THIS FEELS!” and then he could say no more, reduced to stifling his bellow of pain into the sheets, his entire body clenched to try and ease the feeling but it only served to make it worse. He then felt a wave of heat wash over his body, and he broke out into a sweat all over, at the same time starting to feel cold. He moaned in agony and Hughes closed his eyes, grimacing at what his friend had to go through before walking into the living room, taking off the top of his uniform and throwing it on the couch.

 

He pulled his white dress shirt out of his belt so that it would be more comfortable and walked into the kitchen, finding himself a mickey of vodka that he kept stored away for really stressful days along with a small shot glass. Bringing them both back into the living room, he sat down on the couch, placing the shot glass on the coffee table and pouring the clear liquid into it, shooting it down his throat a minute later. He felt it burn as it went down and felt himself relax, able to tune the screams of his friend out easier, but he still felt a tear run down his cheek at having to listen to it, wishing more than anything in the world that he could make this easier for the other man.

 

 

The next morning, Hughes awoke with a slight hangover; he'd needed a few shots before he could sleep, and now he was wondering why he was sleeping on the couch, still in his dress shirt and blue uniform pants. He sat up slowly and saw the shot glass and alcohol sitting on the coffee table, being careful not to make any fast movements lest he aggravate his headache. His mind then suddenly rushed to the reason why he was out here, and he listened intently, trying to hear of any sign from Roy. He didn't hear a thing, and he didn't know if that was good or if it worried him sick. Slowly standing up and stretching his stiff muscles, he walked to his bedroom and opened the door, finding Mustang curled up on the ground beside the bed, shivering violently even though his white shirt was plastered to his skin with sweat. The man slowly turned his head to look at who'd entered the room, and saw Hughes, his eyes filled with pity and sadness for the Flame alchemist.

 

He then uncurled himself and crawled across the floor, Mäes still standing, transfixed as Roy reached up to grab his pants for support and bring himself onto his knees, his eyes wild and almost insane with need as he looked up at him. “Mäes … Please tell me you brought some with you, please tell me you're going to end my suffering …” he said, his voice cracking even though it was almost in a whisper, hoarse from all the yelling and screaming.

 

Hughes had to fight not to cry at the way his friend looked at him with such empty hope while he said, “No, Roy. I didn't bring any. And I never will.” His eyes then widened as Roy's own rapidly turned into fury, his former weakness gone as he leapt up from the ground with surprising agility, catching Mäes off guard and slamming him against the wall, his face more enraged than the lieutenant colonel had ever seen it.

 

“What did I tell you, Mäes!? I need, another HIT!” he said through clenched teeth only an inch from Hughes' face, the fire in his eyes so intense that the other man felt like he was in very real danger. But his instincts kicked in and he quickly slid one of his knives against Roy's throat, gently pressing on it with the flat side, and the Flame alchemist's eyes flicked down for a moment in response to the cold metal before returning to his subordinate's. He slowly eased his grip on Hughes, the metal threatening to turn to the sharp side without a moment's notice, and its owner spoke.

 

“And what did I tell you, Roy? You try this shit again and I swear I'll make your withdrawal seem like a walk in the park. How do you think I get my information from people? I know exactly how to make a person writhe in agony with one touch.” he said in a deadly cold tone, his eyes seeming to confirm that he wouldn't hesitate in doing that even to his best friend. Mustang just glared his hardest before pulling away from the other man, the knife being taken from his throat but not being put away. “Anyways, I'm going to your house to get you a change of clothes and pyjamas and stuff. So I'll be back in a bit, but if I find you anywhere other than this room, I'm going to hold true to my word.” Roy just growled at him before sulking over to the bed, falling on it haphazardly and groaning as his aching muscles protested the sudden movements he'd done only moments before, all of them beginning to cramp up on him. Hughes glared intensely at his friend's limp form before replacing the knife in its sheath up his arm, walking out of the room and closing the door gently. Rubbing his eyes as he went to grab his overcoat and depart for Roy's place, he first went to the man's jacket and fished around until he found his keys, leaving soon afterwards.

 

 

Hughes came back not long afterwards with a pile of clothes, along with the essentials like Roy's toothbrush and shaver. He went into the bedroom to put the clothes in, but found the door open, and no Roy. “What the hell did I tell him! Well, I can't actually torture him, I mean he's in enough pain already but … This certainly calls for something ...” he thought, dropping them on the floor and looking around for his lost comrade. He found him in the bathroom, leaning over the sink counter slightly as he glared into the empty medicine cabinet. “What the fuck are you doing outside that room?!” Hughes yelled, startling the younger man.

 

“I needed to take a piss okay?” he answered, glowering at Hughes.

 

“Then why are you leaning over the sink glaring at my medicine cabinet?”

 

“Because it's empty and has nothing for me to take, that's why!”

 

Mäes grabbed Roy by his shirt collar, pulling him up clear off the ground and glaring intensely, his tone of voice something to be extremely afraid of. “Now, I can't actually torture you like I do with the people they give me to get answers from, but I can certainly make your next three weeks here a living hell if you force me to. From now on, when you need to leave the room, you call for me. Otherwise, I'm going to have to beat you until it hurts to even breathe, and give you a real reason not to move from that bedroom, is that clear?!”

 

Roy gulped in spite of himself, and slowly nodded, fearing to test the man's limits. He was then slowly let back down to the floor, and even though he didn't want to aggravate his subordinate any further, he couldn't help but mumble, “It's still too bad there was nothing in here to take. I would've liked to have overdosed on something else just to feel nothingness again.” and before he knew it, a hard fist connected with his face, and his wish of feeling nothingness was granted as he fell limp into the other arm of Mäes, who at the moment was pissed off beyond belief that his threat hadn't worked like it should've on the younger man. Somewhat thinking that he should continue beating on the man, he restrained himself and drug him back to the bedroom, throwing him on the bed unceremoniously before leaving and slamming the door shut, intending on going straight for the vodka once more. He was beginning to wonder if this whole detoxing thing was harder on Roy, or himself.

 

 

Roy woke up a few hours later to the sound of the bedroom door opening, and he groaned as he touched his cheek gingerly; he could almost feel the bruise. “Roy, you need to eat. And if you can't do that, at least drink some water; you've been sweating way too much.” Mustang just groaned louder, sitting up and cringing as he felt his muscles start to cramp up again, glaring at his friend with those wild eyes that the lieutenant colonel could swear weren't human. He shivered as a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead, breathing rather shallowly but quickly, giving the appearance that he was panting. He closed his eyes for a second as his stomach roiled, but opened them once it had passed, deciding on his fate.

 

Getting off the bed, he slowly walked over to Hughes, and stopped in front of him, giving him a slight shove to try and provoke him. “Hit me, Mäes. I know you want to. Hit me again and let me feel nothingness just like the heroin did. You can be my new drug.” he said, smiling in a rather twisted way. Hughes blanched, taking a step backwards as the force of Roy's words hit him, but the Flame alchemist took another step forward, shoving him again. “Do it! It's all you've ever wanted to do to me, isn't it? Just beat some sense into me, right? Hit me until I see things your way?” Hughes found his back to a wall, and somehow, even though he was bigger and stronger than Mustang, his words made him feel about two inches tall, and just as vulnerable.

 

“Roy I … I never wanted … to hurt you I just … I just …” he stuttered as Roy gave him another hard shove, slamming the rest of him against the hard barrier.

 

“Yes? You just wanted to … what? Not let me have my own opinion? Or is it that you can't control some deep-seated anger problem that you don't want anyone to know you have?”

 

Mäes snapped, and grabbed Roy by the collar again, stepping forward so that he could wind his fist back. “I just wanted you to LISTEN!” he said, panting from his rage, and Roy's eyes flicked amusedly to the readied blow, smiling again.

 

“Yes, that's it. Just beat on me until I can't feel anything again. Or, better yet, use one of your knives on me again and end it here, slit my throat so that you don't have to deal with me.”

 

Hughes dropped Roy, who wasn't ready for it and ended up sprawled on the ground, too weak to keep himself up from the sudden lack of support. Mäes stepped back to the wall, and slid down it into a sitting position, tears flowing down his cheeks and an anguished expression on his face. He took off his glasses and set them beside himself so that he could wipe the tears from his eyes, beginning to sob, and Roy, even in his rather delirious state, felt a pang of sadness in his own heart at seeing his friend who was always so strong reduced to a weeping heap on the ground. The beast inside the colonel who had taken over for the last few hours abated, letting the real Roy through and once he saw what he'd done, he crawled over to Hughes, curling up in his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck, pressing his forehead to the soft skin of it.

 

“I'm so sorry Mäes … I don't think that was me talking, it was the drug. But in a way, I do want to die. I have nothing to live for anymore; my parents are dead and I don't even have any friends besides you guys at the office. You should just let me die, especially for how I made you feel just now.”

 

Hughes sniffed, deciding to slide his own arms around the other, “I'm not letting you die Roy, that's why I'm keeping you here. I promised that I would never let you go and I won't, no matter how guilty you make me feel. You can say, or do anything to me and I'll never back down. I'll help you get through this, and anything until my last breath. That's what a real friend does.”

 

The Flame alchemist began sobbing against his neck, but Mäes could hear a strangled, “Thank you.” come from him before he was crying even more himself, thinking that this whole withdrawal business was going to kill the both of them. He rested his head on Roy's as they sat there together, feeling the intense heat that was coming from him but he didn't care; the comfort of letting go of his frustrations and holding his friend outweighing how clammy and sticky Mustang's skin was against his own. It only served to make him feel even worse for not catching on sooner and maybe being able to do something more for the man. Even though he felt so hot, the Flame alchemist was still shivering from how cold he felt, groaning slightly between tears from how his whole body ached at the same time, and Mäes began rubbing his back to try and soothe him, thinking that the next three weeks couldn't go by fast enough.

 

 

Hughes had to wake up early on Monday to phone in and tell them that neither would be coming to work for a few weeks, saying that Roy had tried to commit suicide - not mentioning the heroin or else he would be fired - and that he would be taking care of him until he got better. He said that he'd had to take him to the hospital and the doctor's said he shouldn't be alone, and the secretary on the other end said that she'd tell the Fürher of their absence, and gave her condolences, expressing her wish that he would be okay. With that aside, he didn't have to worry about getting in trouble, or even doing any work for that matter; it was like a vacation. Except for the continued screams of agony coming from his bedroom that lasted long into the night, making him get almost as little sleep as Roy did unless he drank enough to almost pass out, which he didn't like doing because of the huge hangovers he'd get the following morning.

 

As the days progressed into a week, Roy's symptoms got worse and worse, and soon he was doing everything the nurse had warned them about, although he wasn't freaking out at Hughes anymore. Ever since that one night, it seemed Mustang had figured out that he wouldn't be getting anymore drugs, and had to just concentrate on surviving each day, although the beast inside wouldn't let him go so easily. He'd barely eaten anything, and had to force down water just so that he wouldn't dehydrate too much, although he usually ended up throwing it back up soon afterwards. Hughes had to do laundry almost every day from the amount of sweating Roy suffered from; he'd change into a new everything but by the next morning, his clothes and the sheets were drenched. And to make things worse, by the middle of the second week, he was starting to hallucinate …

 

Hughes sat up straight on the couch, blearily looking around for the danger but then realised it was only Roy, although he felt that he should go check on him because this scream seemed more urgent than the others. Getting up and shuffling over to his bedroom, trying to get his eyes to adjust to the darkness, he opened the door and found Roy huddling on the ground in a corner of the room, shaking violently, his eyes full of some unknown fear. “M-Mäes?” he asked, his voice shaking almost as much as his body.

 

“Yeah, Roy, what's wrong?” Hughes asked sleepily, finally becoming more awake.

 

“Th-they're after me Mäes! The Ishbalans I killed! They want their revenge!” he said in a near whisper, as if he would draw their attention if he talked too loud. He then groaned and put his head lower, covering it with his arms and cringing.

 

Hughes sighed and walked over to him. “Roy, no one's after you. You're just seeing things because of the withdrawal.” he said softly, squatting down and placing a hand on Mustang's shoulder, which caused the man to flinch and curl up tighter.

 

“Don't let them get me Mäes!” he quivered, “I didn't mean to kill them! It was an order, I … I couldn't …” but he was silenced by the lieutenant colonel.

 

“Shh, Roy, they're not here, it's all in your head.” he said, his eyes harbouring a deep sadness for the state that his colonel was in. Roy calmed down a little, and looked up at Mäes, slowly uncurling himself and wrapping his arms around his neck again, still shivering. Hughes just took him in his arms and lifted him up with ease, setting him back down on the bed, but Roy wouldn't let go.

 

“No, you can't leave me alone … They'll get me …” he said, the fear in his eyes renewed as he grasped helplessly at Hughes' nightshirt. The other man sighed, and decided not to fight it, crawling into bed with him, letting him cling tightly to his form. Once he started rubbing his back again and whispering soothing words in his ear, Roy started to relax, not shaking as much and breathing more evenly. Soon, he even fell asleep, and Mäes breathed a sigh of relief; he didn't feel much like comforting his friend all night if it meant he wouldn't get any sleep because of it, so he was glad when he could drift off again as well, his nose buried into Roy's black locks in a half-nuzzle before he did.

 

 

Hughes ended up sleeping with Roy every night after that, the other man needing to have something familiar to cling to at night otherwise he'd start seeing things again; although he still had nightmares, often scaring the hell out of Mäes when he'd sit up in bed, yelling at the remainders of whatever horrors his subconscious had presented to him. Usually when he did, Roy would find himself on the opposite side of the bed as the other man, and would mewl pathetically, crawling back over to cling to him. Still, Hughes didn't mind, because he'd promised that he'd do anything to help and it's not like he had to go to work for awhile, so he didn't really need the rest. The strange thing was, however, that Hughes was actually starting to enjoy sleeping with someone else in his bed; he lived alone and even though he had his friends, he'd always felt a little lonely, and even though this was a horrible circumstance, he was kind of glad that he at least got this little comfort out of it.

 

He noticed this mostly when he'd get up in the morning and have to leave his friend; when he did, he'd feel a strange pang of loss, and would become slightly down until he returned, and wished that Roy could leave the room and come with him. But, there was no chance of that, since he had to rest as much as he could since he didn't get a whole lot of sleep, so instead he came to Mustang, now only leaving to get food and stuff, but coming back soon after and sitting on the bed with him, mostly watching the other man sleep. The sight filled him with a strange wonder; as much pain as the man was in when he was awake, it seemed to abate in his sleep, and he actually looked peaceful for once, that is, until he woke up. But Mäes enjoyed watching him, and whenever Roy would look troubled or anything, he'd gently run his fingers through his hair, which seemed to settle him down quite a bit.

 

As the second week turned into the third, Roy's symptoms began to become milder. He was starting to be able to keep food and water down, and didn't have as many nightmares or hallucinations, yet he was still sweating a lot and his muscles were continually cramping, and headaches still constantly plagued him, although the beast inside seemed to have settled down to a dull roar. Hughes was extremely glad that things were starting to look up; every day tore him to pieces to watch his friend suffer, and now that he was getting better and wasn't so weak, it filled him with joy. He even wondered if Roy would be able to shower now; before he'd only been able to soak in the tub, not strong enough to stand for very long, but he hadn't had a good washing since he came to Hughes' place. It had been pointless when he'd just need another one a few hours later from the sweating.

 

“Hey, Roy.” Mäes called out to his friend as he pulled off his shirt, tossing it into the hamper.

 

“Hmm?” Roy queried, raising his head off of his arms which were crossed in front of him as he lay on the bed.

 

“Do you think you're strong enough to have a shower yet?” the other man answered, now pulling off his pants and leaving himself in his boxers.

 

“Maybe, yeah.”

 

“Then come with me; I'm gonna go have one right now so I'll be there if you suddenly feel weak or something. Come on, it'll be just like back at the academy when we all had to shower together after drills.” he grinned, the memory a fond one, even with all of the towel-whippings.

 

Mustang just mumbled and rolled over, sliding off of the bed and taking off his own shirt before walking to the bathroom where Mäes was already running the water. Once it was ready, the both of them slid off their boxers and stepped into the hot spray, Hughes standing behind Roy who was the one closest to the nozzle. Even though it was hot, Roy's body seemed to think it was really cold, and crossed his arms, shivering. “It's c-cold, Mäes.” he stuttered.

 

“There's steam coming off of your skin, Roy.” Mäes answered, raising an eyebrow. But Mustang insisted, and confessed that he still felt too weak to really do much besides stand, so Hughes wasted no time in soaping up a scrubby and washing him, starting with his back.

 

“Wh-what are you d-doing?” the shivering colonel asked, and Hughes didn't stop while he answered.

 

“I'm washing you. You said you weren't strong enough to move so I'm doing it for you. I don't mind, if it helps you out.” he said as he gently scrubbed Roy, “Now turn around, I need to wash the soap off your back.” Roy complied without question, too weak to fight it, and as he turned he felt his front become even colder now that the water wasn't running on it. As such, he stepped forward a bit and huddled against Hughes' chest, still shivering but not as much anymore, and Mäes' eyes softened at the sight, using his free hand to rub his back and simultaneously get the soap off. He then put the scrubby down and grabbed the shampoo, lathering his own hair first before doing Mustang's, and then gently washing it out for him, and himself. He then did the same with the conditioner but let it sit a little bit longer before washing it out so that it would have time to work, and in the meantime he just massaged Roy's scalp, a slight moan of appreciation escaping the man's lips as it helped his headache somewhat.

 

Hughes then gently moved Roy away from him a bit so that he could wash the man's chest and arms, but once he was done rinsing him off and washing himself, Roy turned back around, arms still crossed on his chest, to huddle against him again. Mustang didn't necessarily feel warmer against his friend, he just liked the comfort of it, and hearing a heartbeat somehow lulled him out of his pain a bit. Mäes couldn't help but put his arms around him, and then thought of something. “Does the water help your aching muscles?” he asked, and the colonel mumbled against his skin.

 

“Yeah, a little. It's still too cold though.” Hughes smiled grimly at his friend before moving his arms up and starting to massage his shoulders, Roy groaning again at feeling all the knots and tension begin to release from Hughes' strong hands. Once Mäes had gotten halfway down his friend's back, however, he realised that Mustang was almost falling asleep, and pulled back shaking him a little. “Hrmm …” Roy groaned at the sudden lack of touch. “That felt nice.”

 

“Maybe a little too nice. You were falling asleep.” Hughes chuckled before leaning forward and turning off the shower. Roy immediately shuddered, now actually feeling cold, and his friend stepped out, quickly grabbing him a fluffy bathrobe. He only took a towel for himself, quickly drying off before wrapping it around his waist and leading Roy back to the bedroom. He flipped up the covers and lay down, letting Mustang curl up beside him, pulling the blankets over his friend to aid with warming him up. The other man yawned and laid his head on Hughes' chest, who put an arm around him and watched as Roy fell asleep, smiling faintly at the younger man. He then started to wonder, since Roy's symptoms were beginning to ease off, what he would feel when he could finally go home. At the thought, his smile faded, and he wondered if he would really want him to leave.

 

He was used to sleeping with someone in his bed now, and to the closeness of Mustang always clinging to him, and he began to wonder if he even liked him in a different way now. Over the last weeks the two had grown closer than any friends would normally have the opportunity to, seeing each other at their worst and helping each other through it. He didn't really know though, and thought it was best not to try and sort his new feelings out until the time came. He then brought his hand up to the back of the colonel's head, gently entwining his fingers in his damp hair, and gave him a small kiss on the top of his head before pressing his nose into the dark locks again, closing his eyes and falling asleep soon afterwards.

 

 

Later on that night, Roy awoke with a start, having been experiencing the weirdest dream. He couldn't quite remember what it was about, but the one thing he did make sense of was the uncomfortable tightness present in his lower regions, which kind of weirded him out. Heroin was known to suppress a person's sex drive, so he hadn't had a noticeable boner in almost months, but now that he was on the mend, the drive seemed to be coming back in full force. He felt it throb painfully, telling him that he needed to do something about it lest it not let him go back to sleep, and he moved his head slightly to see where Hughes was. Unluckily for him, his head was still on his chest, and Hughes still had his hand on his head, breathing softly into his hair as he slept. He shifted uncomfortably as it throbbed again, and decided just to pull out from under the other man's arm as gently as he could. Unfortunately, Mäes stirred, and mumbled, “Roy?”

 

“Yeah, Mäes, I just need to go to the bathroom.” he said, finally able to sit up, and Hughes rubbed his eyes, looking down and noticing that he was still in nothing but a towel.

 

“I'll come with you, I need to get my boxers.” he said, reaching to grab the blanket but Roy held out a hand to still him.

 

“No, I'll … bring them back when I'm done.” he said, getting a little anxious now, and he was glad for the darkness that hid his shame and his blush; he was becoming a little embarrassed.

 

Hughes frowned, “I also need to hang my towel up. Why don't you want me to come? It's not like I haven't seen a guy take a piss before.”

 

“Uh, well … I'm not going to the bathroom for that …” Roy said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head.

 

“Then what the f- … Oh … OH!” Hughes laughed, falling back into the bed. “Here, just take my towel and bring my boxers back like you said.” he chuckled, and Mustang glared at him, annoyed, before grabbing the towel and walking off with whatever dignity he had left.

 

 

Hughes had found it amusing, but when it happened the next three nights as well, he started to get suspicious, and grumpy - he always got woken up when Mustang left, no matter how quiet he was. One night, before they went to bed, he asked Roy about it. “I know this is personal but, what's with the sudden increase in … you know …” He said, grinning a little sheepishly.

 

“What? Oh, uh, well …” Roy said, rubbing his head again. “If you must know, I heard, from my dealer actually, that heroin suppresses your sex drive a lot, so when you get off of it, it tends to come back with a vengeance. And it's true; no matter how much I, uh, relieve myself, it always comes back a few hours later. It's driving me insane actually. At least during the day I can control it somewhat, but in the night it's given free reign … and can hurt like hell.” he confessed, and Hughes gave him a sympathetic look.

 

“That sucks man. But, I guess it means that you're close to a full recovery now, huh? I mean, it's almost the end of the third week … how are you feeling?”

 

“Besides that, I feel better than before. Still have headaches like mad, and my muscles are always aching, but I've been sweating less and I don't think I've had a nightmare in a few days. Not to mention most of my nausea is gone, I'm just really sore all of the time.” he said, moving his shoulders in a circle and trying to loosen up his neck. “Although I must say, that massage you were giving me in the shower helped a lot.” he grinned teasingly.

 

“Really? Well in that case, I have an idea for tomorrow. But I won't tell you until then.” Hughes retorted, just as teasingly. The two laughed and Roy rolled his eyes, but they got under the covers, the Flame alchemist snuggling up to Hughes again. Now that he was almost fully recovered, he didn't need to sleep in the same bed as his friend, but he was used to being close to someone at night and didn't want to leave the comfort until he absolutely had to.

 

They fell asleep not long afterwards, Roy having fitful dreams about naked women - which was a welcome prospect compared to the nightmares he'd had only days before - but it turned out to be more troublesome than even those, as he unconsciously threw a leg over Hughes, and began kissing his neck, grinding against him slightly. Mäes awoke with a start, and was disoriented for a moment before he realised what was happening, and pulled back as much as he could, tangled in the other man's limbs. “R-Roy! Ahh! Wake up!” he spluttered, and Mustang's eyes opened, his body freezing for a moment before suddenly pulling away so fast that he ended up landing on his ass between Mäes' feet at the end of the bed.

 

Panting slightly, his eyes were wide and he stuttered, “Shit Mäes, I'm so sorry about that! I didn't mean it, I mean I was asleep and dreaming and … About naked women, that is, not you.” he said, starting to blabber in his embarrassment. Hughes just shook his head, waving a hand at him.

 

“Nah, I know you didn't mean it. It just kind of freaked me out for a moment there.” he said, breathing a little quicker also from awaking with a start.

 

“Man, this is getting out of hand …” Roy groaned, looking down at the obvious discomfort in his boxers which he had no hope of hiding from his friend. “If I start doing shit like that, I'm going to have to sleep on the couch or something …”

 

“Well, I understand that you can't control it …” the older man said, remembering the talk they'd had only a few hours beforehand. “But that was kind of weird. Yet, you only seem to have a problem once a night, if the past four days have shown, so you should be okay to sleep the rest of the night here without incident …” he said, and Roy thought he detected a note of hope in his voice, and wondered …

 

“Does he … actually like sleeping in the same bed as me? I always thought I was a burden, needing security and he just gave it to me because he had a moral inclination to … but by the way he sounded there, he actually wants me here … how odd …” He then nodded, and slid off the bed, heading for the bathroom, and as he stood in front of the toilet, slipping his boxers down in the front, he kept thinking. “Maybe he just wants me for the same support, or maybe it's something else … I mean he has been kind of touchy, and even if he hides behind the facts, it doesn't mean he had to give me that massage or even sleep in the same room as me now that I'm done hallucinating. Or I could just be making it all up, but why would I want to think that way? Would I ever feel the same?”

 

He then thought about the brief seconds of the incident, and even though he only remembered doing that to a woman in his dream, he could still remember the taste and feeling, and began wondering if being with a man was much different than being with a woman - besides the obvious differences. “If I got that much pleasure out of doing it to Hughes while thinking he was a girl, would it be that much different?” he thought, feeling his member throb painfully in his hand - which he hadn't been giving the attention it wanted because he'd stopped while thinking; he then decided that he'd continue his musings at a later time. He started stroking it again, and let his mind wander to his dream, but he couldn't help but remember how good it felt to be on Hughes, and he let that thought carry him to orgasm a few minutes later, not caring - for the time being - that it was the fantasy of his male friend, not a naked woman, that had made him come.

 

 

Hughes watched Roy leave to relieve himself, and as his mind thought back to what had happened; he soon noticed that he felt a familiar tingling sensation in his own lower regions, and wondered why such a thing would turn him on. “I guess it doesn't matter who does it; getting kissed feels good.” he thought, and the more he did, the more uncomfortable his boxers got. He soon just rolled his eyes and growled at the way that it wouldn't subside, pulling the restraining clothing down with one hand while spitting in the other, grasping his hardened cock and pumping on it fast, determined to finish before his friend returned so that he wouldn't know just how much he'd enjoyed it, and maybe trying to hide the fact from himself a little.

 

 

The next morning, both felt kind of awkward around each other, but more because of how they'd both secretly liked what had happened, although neither knew that the other did as well. Hughes wasted no time in getting ready and leaving to break the tension however, but he rather unknowingly increased it by returning with the usual - groceries, booze, and a bottle of massage oil. “I thought I'd get this because of what you said last night, about the massage having helped you. I'm still feeling terribly guilty about not being able to help you sooner, so I won't take no for an answer.” he said after Roy looked at it with a questioning expression.

 

“Why don't you just open up a spa?” he smirked, and Hughes made a mocking face at him.

 

“Why don't you just quit denying that you need me to take care of you?” he said, laughing, and Roy's eyebrows twitched into a frown. “Anyways, I took a class once. Dunno why. I think one of my girlfriends was trying to `broaden my horizons' but all it served to do was lead me to stop in the middle of giving her a massage and fucking her brains out.” he said, one eyebrow raised and his mouth to the opposite side of his face, thinking back to how useless the whole thing had been.

 

Roy laughed, “So is that what you're going to do to me?” and Mäes frowned.

 

“Not unless you mount me first, like last night.” he grinned, having obviously gotten Roy's goat again, and Mustang just grumbled, reaching for the alcohol.

 

Later that day, as it started getting dark out and the two of them were sitting on the couch, drinking and talking like normal friends again, Roy wiped his forehead, a few beads of sweat having formed. “Fucking withdrawal. You'd think it would let me rest finally, after all I've been through …” he growled, rolling his shoulders again in obvious discomfort.

 

Hughes lightly slapped his shoulder and stood up. “Come on Roy boy, I'm gonna give you that massage.” he said, grinning as Mustang glared intensely at the nickname before reluctantly standing as well, grabbing Mäes' shirt for support, still not quite strong enough to be moving too fast. Roy then went into the bedroom while Mäes got a towel from the linen closet, throwing it at the man once he entered the bedroom as well. Closing the door he said, “So yeah, strip down and use the towel to cover yourself.” he smirked, and Roy glared at him again, hating that his subordinate was telling him what to do.

 

“I still outrank you, lieutenant colonel.” he grumbled, but did what he was told, laying on the bed on his front with his face on a pillow to one side so that he could breathe, the towel barely covering what it was supposed to, and he wondered if Hughes had given him a small one on purpose. Hughes didn't seem to notice really, and walked over to the bed, deciding on the best way to sit and do this. After a little bit of contemplation, he decided on straddling Roy, sitting on the towel, and he heard a growl of disproval coming from his colonel.

 

“Come on, Roy. Do you really expect me to give you a proper massage if I'm off to one side? I wouldn't be able to reach everything and it would disrupt you in the middle of it. I don't want that.” he said firmly, and Roy rolled his eyes.

 

“Just get it over wi- oh god …” he groaned as Hughes did just that, smoothing the oil on his shoulders and digging in with his thumbs, his strong hands once again working miracles on the man's flesh. He groaned again as the man worked, all thoughts of fighting how awkward this was melting into the hurt-so-good feeling he received, and he closed his eyes, jumping slightly whenever he'd get a really bad spot from the pain.

 

“Sorry.” Mäes said after one of these instances, and Roy just mumbled that it was okay, not really being able to think anything coherently. As the older man's hands worked downwards, and to the side, he noticed that he could feel Mustang's ribs through his skin easily, and even his spine was sticking out a bit. He felt another pang of sympathy and worry, glad that it would soon be over and his friend could start eating more and get healthier. He didn't like seeing him like this at all, and was glad that he could provide some relief this way at least. Once he was done working out the knots and tension of his back, he slowly slid his hands down, then back up, smoothing it all over and extracting a low moan from Roy. Hughes felt his cock twitch slightly at the sound, and frowned at himself, wondering what it was playing at. He decided to ignore it, now running his hands down the other man's arms and squeezing slightly, the pressure easing away the cramps and aches.

 

When he was done, he got off the bed for a moment to turn around, sitting back on Roy and putting more oil in his hands, starting on the man's legs, rubbing and stroking them up and down. “God, Mäes …” the younger man moaned, and Hughes felt his cock twitch again, starting to get hard despite his attempts not to think about it. Luckily, Roy wouldn't be able to feel it with the way Hughes was sitting on him, but he still felt uncomfortable, and finished up what he was doing, stepping off of him a second time.

 

“I don't know if you'd want me to do your front …” he said, rubbing the back of his head and glad that his erection wasn't so bad that he couldn't hide it.

 

“Not really, but even if I did, I wouldn't be able to roll over.” he mumbled, “I'm so relaxed right now …” he said, sleepily; now that his aches and cramps had abated, he could finally rest without much trouble, and was already well on his way to doing just that. Hughes just chuckled at him and set the oil on the bedside table, pulling off his top and grabbing his white muscle shirt, which he usually wore to bed, and pulled it on, also stripping down to his boxers. Seeing that Roy was now asleep, he looked down at his hard-on, which refused to go away. He rolled his eyes again, cursing under his breath, and walked into the bathroom to relieve himself, starting to wonder if he really was attracted to the other man.

 

Once Hughes had finished and crawled back into bed, he noticed that Roy still was wearing nothing but the towel, and sighed, watching the man sleep for a few moments before laying down fully, reaching a hand out to gently touch Mustang's shoulder. The man stirred a little, but just groaned slightly, and reached his own hand over, blindly searching for Mäes. When it found him, he moved over a little - still asleep - and wrapped his arms around his waist, unable to get a good grip because of the way he was laying. Hughes smiled and rolled on his side, Roy giving a small sound of approval and fully gripping him, burying his face into the back of his neck, soon snoring lightly again. Hughes sighed again, frowning as he tried to sort out his emotions, and put both of his hands over the other man's arms, soon falling into a slightly troubled sleep.

 

 

A few hours later, Roy's mouth twitched in his sleep, opening slightly as he started panting a bit, dreaming that a beautiful woman wearing nothing but a miniskirt was giving him head. He groaned as his real-life erection pressed against something solid, which turned out to be Hughes' leg, and Mäes awoke from the sound. Mumbling a bit, he blinked a few times and tried to figure out what had awoken him, and felt Roy's hot breath on his neck, hearing him whimper slightly with every pant. The man then groaned louder, rubbing against him more, his hand moving down to Mäes' crotch, and his eyes flew open, clouded with lust. He then pulled back enough to roll the lieutenant colonel onto his back, and climbed on top of him, the towel which once covered him sliding off.

 

“Roy!” Mäes half-yelled, his face sporting a kind of scared expression, but was silenced as the man pushed up his muscle shirt with a hand, the other still on his crotch.

 

A hoarse voice answered him, clearly laced with desperation and need. “I'm awake, Mäes.” it said, sounding like grating metal from the grogginess but at the same time breathless.

 

“Then why are you -” But Roy cut him off, having leaned down to start kissing his chest.

 

Speaking between kisses and pants, he growled, “Oh god Mäes, I'm harder than those granite pillars outside of Central …” and moved up, now biting at one of his nipples, the shirt pushed up to his neck while he massaged Hughes' now semi-hard erection.

 

“I know.” Hughes whimpered, feeling it strain against his now bare stomach. “But can't you just go jerk off or something, like before?” he asked, feeling too incapacitated by the colonel's actions to fight him.

 

“No …” Roy answered, hopelessly grinding against his friend and groaning. “No matter how many times I do that, I never feel satisfied and it's still uncomfortable. It's the withdrawal, Hughes. I can't help it …” he gasped against his chest, and felt Hughes's cock become almost as rigid as his own through the fabric of his boxers.

 

“So you think … this will help? I … I still don't know if I … like … this …” the lieutenant colonel panted, but then groaned loudly as Roy's hand slipped into his boxers, grasping his member, and he couldn't help but thrust once into the hand.

 

“I don't know, but I have to try.” he murmured, leaning up a bit more. “Just let me do this, just this one time.” Roy breathed into his ear before biting his earlobe gently, and Mäes moaned a yes, pushing his hips up again. The younger man wasted no time in removing his hand from the boxers so that he could use both to pull off the muscle shirt, and he was met with a harsh growl for taking the hand away. He then leaned down and covered the mouth which emitted the growl with his own, sliding his tongue in and clawing the boxers down until they got kicked off by the other man. Their mouths parted so that they could breathe, but their tongues still mingled as Mäes' strong hands pulled him down, letting them grind together, both half-moaning before uniting their lips once again.

 

Mustang's hand then reached out to the bedside table, blindly searching out the massage oil that had been used on him earlier that day, and found it, sitting up on Mäes and pouring some of it into his hand before snapping the cap closed and tossing it aside. He then slicked his own member and groaned a bit before lying down again, reaching the oiled fingers down to the other man's ass. Hughes looked hesitant again, but let him slide one finger in, letting him get comfortable before inserting the second, still kissing him. Hughes suddenly shut his eyes tight as the fingers brushed against that certain spot, and pulled away from Roy's mouth - his moan almost a yell - throwing his head back into the pillow, arching his chest. Apparently he hadn't known that he had such a pleasurable spot in there, and he growled again through clenched teeth as he dug his fingers into Mustang's back.

 

Roy just continued kissing him, now on his neck since the older man had pulled away from his mouth, and stroked the place a few more times before removing his fingers, moving down to position himself. Hughes panted as he was able to recover from the white flash across his mind, absolutely delirious from the pleasure, and he whimpered as the other man slowly pushed himself in, brushing against his prostate again. “Jesus, Roy!” he gasped, still pushing his head into the pillow with his eyes shut tight, feeling his own member rub against his friend's stomach as he started moving inside him. Roy slid both of his arms around his comrade, making it so that their bodies were pressed together tightly, grinding Hughes' cock against both of their stomachs as he started a steady rhythm. The Flame alchemist then nibbled lightly at his friend's Adam's apple before sucking on it, feeling the moans coming from it vibrating through his own skin.

 

His thrusts had started out shallow, but now they were deep and hard as he chased his orgasm, continually hitting the bundle of nerves which sent Hughes through the roof, who was dangerously close to his own climax. He then gave another hard thrust, and his abs sliding against the lieutenant colonel's erection topped the man off as sticky, white fluid erupted between them, Mäes shouting, “Fuck!” before moving his own hips a few times to further the orgasm, moaning continuously. Roy only had to give a few more strokes of his own before he bit into the other man's neck, letting out a strangled groan and releasing his own seed into Hughes, whimpering and gasping until it was over. When it was, he slid off of the other man, pulling out in the process and laying on his side, eyes closed and chest heaving. Hughes' hand searched for Roy's, and found it, rolling over as well while holding it tightly, the two huddling together as they came down from their highs. Neither said a word as their breathing returned to normal, and soon started slowing even more, both of them slipping back into the dark embrace of sleep, tangled in each other's arms.

 

 

The next morning, the two awoke still pressed against each other's bodies, and when they both finally mustered the energy to pull apart they almost stuck together, the dried semen acting like glue. Hughes winced at how his skin felt, and immediately went to take a shower while Roy stayed behind and waited, both of them feeling the unspoken pact that they should have time to sort their feelings out on their own for awhile. Roy wasn't really sure what he felt. And no matter how hard he thought about it, he couldn't sort it out for the life of him. “I told him I was doing it because of the drugs, but I guess that I could've just went and jerked off. But I chose to be with him instead, and I wonder why. I mean, sure I wanted to know if it might help my problem, but I wonder if I just wanted to experiment, test my theory that the difference between men and women might not be so big after all. I just wish I knew how he felt but I don't want to ask … Gahh …” he thought frustratedly, sighing. At least he was still relaxed and not aching from the massage, he thought, and he actually felt pretty good. A lot more like he was back to normal, finally.

 

He then reflected on the last few months, and how he felt now, comparing the two and coming to the conclusion that Hughes was his saviour. “I was diving into a tailspin and he's the only one who cared …He even cared enough to put up with my worst for three weeks, I can't imagine why he'd do that. He says it's just because he's my friend but, what he did was beyond friendship. He treated me like I was family, never giving up or stopping caring. And I don't even know what I did to deserve it …” he pondered thoughtfully, “If it weren't for him, I would be dead right now, I have no doubt about that.” he thought, the chilling thought piercing his very bones. Sighing again, he decided that he had come to a conclusion finally. He loved the man. Not that kind of superficial love you had for your friends when they took you out for a drink, or what you told your girlfriend after sleeping with her for the first time … it was the real kind of love, the kind of love that would transcend eternity itself.

 

Everything Hughes had done for him was selfless, without regard for himself or anything other than helping him get better, and in return, Roy felt a fierce loyalty for him flare inside his heart, deciding that from then on, he'd do the same for the other man. He didn't care what anyone else would think; what Mäes had done was incomparable to anything anyone else had done for him, and probably would ever do for him. He took him in at the hardest time in his life, cared for him, and accepted him for who he was without judgement, and for that, Roy decided that he would die for him. “Now if only I could put that into words and actually tell him …”

 

 

Hughes was having the same dilemma that Roy was having, pondering while he scrubbed himself off in the shower, frowning slightly. “He said that he was doing it because of the withdrawal, and yet I still can't help but think that he really could've masturbated it off if he wanted to. Yet, he chose me. Maybe he just wanted it for finally having the opportunity to have sex after so long of not having a drive at all, or … maybe he likes me back.” Hughes had decided beforehand that he definitely was attracted to the other man now, since is body couldn't help but respond to him, and they really had grown close over the last three weeks especially. He couldn't help but like him; even though Roy was plagued with problems, Hughes figured it was just because he'd never really had anyone love him, and he felt pity for him, finding that there was a lot to love under the insecurities and troubles.

 

For one, he was an accomplished alchemist, something that was completely out of Mäes' understanding, and probably would continue to be for the rest of time. Also, he was a great leader when he wanted to be, making good decisions fast and managing to be a step ahead of everyone, that is, until it came to his own well-being. Not to mention all of his real qualities; he was smart, understanding, loyal to his friends and as such, he surmised that he could be very loving as well, if given the right circumstances. Hughes didn't know why the man was always so down on himself and depressed when he possessed all of those great qualities, especially enough to start doing drugs, even if Ishbal had been horrible. He concluded it just must've been from a lack of love during his childhood, and wished that he could give it to him now, although he was sure that Roy still thought of him as nothing more than a friend.

 

Sighing, he wished that he could have his feelings reciprocated, but didn't want to risk asking Roy about it and making it awkward. “Why is it that a man and a woman can express that they're interested in each other but for two men, it's awkward? Stupid social conditioning … They should teach that love can come in all forms.” he thought angrily, feeling frustrated that for once in his life, he wouldn't be able to act on the thing he felt was most right, just because being gay was generally frowned upon in their day and age. “It's not that I find men attractive … I just find Roy attractive. Maybe it's kind of like when you have a girl that you like a lot, and then you see the `world's sexiest woman' and yet, she isn't as beautiful as your girl.” he then chuckled lightly to himself. “I think it's true because I don't think I've ever seen anything as beautiful as Roy when he's sleeping …”

 

 

Once Hughes was done in the shower, Roy took over and stepped in, the two passing each other without a word as Mäes grabbed a towel and wrapped it around himself, going into the kitchen to make some coffee. Soon, he was sitting in the living room with a strong, steaming cup of it while he heard Roy coming out of the bathroom, but then heard his bedroom door shut. Raising an eyebrow, he just continued mulling things over in his mind, thinking for a long while until Roy emerged, completely dressed in his blue uniform, bags under his eyes and a slightly hollow look to him but looking dashing nonetheless. He had a bag with him, which Hughes assumed carried his clothing and personal effects, and looked at his friend with sad but somewhat decided eyes, and spoke. “Since it's the end of the third week, and I feel like I'm almost back to normal, I guess I should … go home now. I've been too much of a burden to you.” he said, his voice sounding rather empty, as if he was hiding something, but Hughes nodded, remembering that he'd decided not to make this awkward.

 

“You don't have to if you don't want but, I guess you'd want to go back home, huh. And you haven't been a burden, you know that.” he said, but Roy remained silent, looking at the door and then looking back, as if wishing for a reason to stay. “I … well … I hope that you get healthier … make sure to eat lots, and not worry too much about me.” he finished, not really being able to find words to express himself. He wanted to tell him to stay safe, to eat his fruits and vegetables, to not hesitate to ask for anything, to take better care of himself, to not be afraid to feel human, to be happy, to live his life … but of course, he couldn't, and Mustang just nodded thanking him for everything before walking to the door and opening it, standing there for a moment, feeling as though his legs couldn't move. He felt every fibre of his being scream at him to stay, that he was making the biggest mistake of his life by leaving, and his legs were lead … but he just blocked his instincts out, finally going through and closing the door as Hughes mumbled - almost inaudibly - the most important thing he'd wanted to say to Roy before he'd disappeared:

 

“I love you …”

 

 

When Roy got home, he felt empty inside, as though all of what the two had worked for over the last three weeks had been sucked out of him and replaced with a black hole. He wondered why he'd felt fine at Hughes' place and not here, and then he laughed at himself. “I know very well why I feel like shit now. I fucking love him. And now that I've left, I don't think I can ever muster the courage to tell him. He'd probably just laugh in my face and think it was a joke anyways …” he thought miserably, collapsing on his couch with a beer, wishing he had something stronger. That night, he found - much to his surprise - that he didn't have the uncomfortable boner syndrome anymore, and wondered if what had happened between him and Hughes had actually done something, or if he was just recovered now. Still, he lay in bed for hours, and in the end had to ironically resort to masturbation before he could relax enough to sleep; once he realised this, he gave a sardonic smile to the ceiling, thinking that if there was a god, he was a “Fucking sadistic bastard …”

 

 

Hughes had just as much trouble sleeping as Roy did, tossing and turning all night, feeling a great sense of loss at not having anyone to hold anymore, made worse by the fact that the sheets still smelled like him. He rolled around until the wee hours of the morning, finally falling asleep just as the sun came up, but only staying asleep until noon, his dreams plagued with restlessness. He reluctantly pulled himself out of bed as he glared at the birds chirping outside, wondering just what the hell they were so happy about when he didn't have his Roy. Grumbling, he went to the bathroom, and once he'd done his business he looked at himself in the mirror, leaning over the sink not unlike Roy had when he'd been looking for something else to overdose on. He glared at the stubble on his face which wasn't a part of his normal beard, for no particular reason - just feeling the need to hate something, before he reluctantly opened the cabinet and grabbed the shaving cream.

 

Afterwards, he tried to go about his day normally, but found his thoughts kept turning to the pale-skinned, black-haired beauty that he longed to call his own, and he found himself pacing in front of the phone, raking his fingers through his hair. “What the fuck am I doing? I'm acting like some hormonally challenged teenager here! It's not like I'm going to ask him out or … anything like that! I just want, to see how he's doing, yeah … That's my excuse.” he though, and before he could stop himself he picked it up, dialling his friend's number. It took a moment before a grumpy voice picked up on the other line, and Hughes laughed cheerfully. “Happy as ever, huh Roy?”

 

“Hughes? What are you calling for?” Mustang asked, becoming confused. He'd only been gone for a day and his friend was already worried about him.

 

“Oh, nothing … I was just wanting to check up on you and …” he then suddenly smirked deviously to himself, still managing to sound casual. “And by the way, you left something here.” he said, trying to contain himself.

 

“I did? I was sure that I got everything … are you sure? What is it?”

 

“Yes, it is, because it's not mine.”

 

“What is it then?”

 

“You'll see when you get here. Just get over here quickly, I don't have all day!”

 

 

When Roy knocked on the door to his friend's house, he was still confounded on how he'd forgotten something when he hadn't had much there to begin with, and was surprised as Hughes answered the door almost immediately. “Come in.” he said, stepping back and motioning for him to follow, but once Roy was clear of the door, he was shoved against it as it closed, Mäes' having attacked his mouth with his own, and he couldn't help but melt into the other man's arms, kissing back enthusiastically until the both of them were panting.

 

Hughes pulled away and Roy blinked a few times before speaking, “So, what did I forget, actually?” he asked.

 

The older man just shook his head, staring at the ground before bringing his head back up to look the other in the eyes. “Roy, you forgot my heart. It doesn't belong to me anymore, it does to you now. I didn't have a choice in it, I just … I really …” he then turned away, mumbling “Nevermind.”

 

Roy brought a hand up to Mäes' face, making him look back at him. “No, Hughes, I want to hear it, because I think it might be the very same thing I'm thinking.” he said, his eyes looking wide with hope but in reality they were half-lidded; the amount of emotion pouring through them just making them seem larger than life.

 

“I … I love you.” he finally managed, and Roy looked like his greatest wish had just come true, smiling as he simply nodded a few times before forcing Hughes' head back to his own, feeling the man suddenly relax immensely, as if a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. He felt the same of himself, and joy suddenly burst through his veins, creating a more euphoric feeling than the heroin ever had at the realisation that his feelings were reciprocated, soon laughing through their kisses, tears of joy forming at the corners of his eyes. Hughes began smiling as well against the other man's mouth, resorting to nuzzling his forehead with his own now that the both of them were laughing softly with pent-up nervousness and frustrations being released, amazed that such a thing was possible in this world. “I love you, Roy.” he repeated, kissing his cheek and then his forehead. “It feels good to say it, finally.”

 

Mustang just leaned against the door with his head up, still chuckling, sniffing slightly from the forming tears. “Who would've thought this could happen to me of all people? Nothing good is supposed to happen to me, and yet now I have you, an ideal companion in the most unexpected form. You're the best friend that I've ever had, and to top it off, you're technically my lover now too. I don't think I could ask for any higher honour than that.” he said, smiling as he brought his head back down to look into the other man's eyes, and Hughes felt his heart sing with delight at seeing Roy so happy; nothing made him feel more complete than the smile on that man's face.

 

He couldn't help but lean in for a kiss, and as they broke apart for a second, he said “I feel exactly the same way, believe me.” before kissing once more. He then tried to talk between kisses, moving his hands down to wrap around the waist of the other while speaking. “Although, when we made love we weren't really doing it for the love. We should go confirm right now that we love each other, just to make sure.”

 

Roy mumbled a “Mm-hm.” before nodding enthusiastically, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders, and jumping up to do the same with his legs around his waist, causing Hughes to fall forwards a bit, pushing Roy into the door again as he got used to the sudden added weight.

 

“Oof! Why do I have to carry you?” he asked, grumbling as he hauled his newfound mate to the bedroom, Roy nibbling along his slightly scratchy jawline in the meantime, tangling his fingers in his hair.

 

“Because you're not a recovering heroin addict and so you weigh twice as much as me.” he murmured before being thrown onto the bed, Hughes climbing over him after shutting the door.

 

They immediately started removing their clothing, giving each other little kisses along the way, and Hughes mumbled, “So that means I can overpower you, then.” smirking at his colonel. “I wanna ride the Mustang.” he grinned, not unlike a child at an amusement park, and Roy rolled his eyes, both down to just their pants.

 

“You're going to have to work for - ah! - it …” he said as the older man then slid his hands down his pants, gently massaging Roy's semi-hard member.

 

“You mean like this?” he grinned again, and Mustang just glared at him before gasping slightly again.

 

“Yeah yeah. Less talking, more fucking.” he groaned, pushing his hips into his hand, quickly trying to undo his pants so as to give the man more freedom. Hughes just smirked as he leaned down, kissing and licking at Roy's chest, his beard scratching the skin slightly but for some reason, the sensation just turned the other man on even more. It didn't take long before the both of them were completely naked, Hughes trying to map out every bump and crevasse on Mustang's chest and neck with his tongue, Roy reaching down to grasp their erections together and massage them at the same time, causing both to groan. Mäes leaned up and started nibbling on his earlobe, moving down to kiss just below it, then pushing his head up a bit like a nuzzle before kissing just below that. He moved down in this fashion, the kisses turning into suckles, and soon he'd left a trail of marks down and across Roy's neck, the younger man tangling his fingers in his hair again as he pushed his head back, giving him more access.

 

Mäes then got a devious glint in his eye, and sat up, Roy whimpering at the loss of lips from his skin. “I can do that frontal massage now, can't I?” he smirked, and Mustang glared at him.

 

“This is certainly no time for th-” but was silenced by a kiss.

 

“Don't worry, I'll make it worth your while.” he grinned, sitting up again and reaching for the oil, pouring some in his hand and smoothing it over Roy's chest, his fingers immediately pushing themselves into his skin, rotating in little circles and moving downwards, Mustang groaning slightly as they brushed across his nipples. Hughes purposefully let his hands linger at the sensitive area before moving down more and moving himself to kneel between Roy's legs, giving him more access to his lower stomach. Massaging the defined abs and moving ever-lower, he followed the trail of hairs that led downwards from his navel until he reached the base of the other man's rigid cock. He then grasped it with one hand and slid it up, the oil letting it slide along nicely as he then did the same with the other hand, then doing the opposite right after. Roy couldn't help but let out a strangled moan, panting heavily and pushing his hips up to try and further his pleasure, his hands grasping the bed sheets for a lack of anything else to clutch at.

 

Hughes continued his actions, stroking it in as many different ways as he could think of, the oil giving him the added freedom to slide his fingers in a multitude of ways. He almost enjoyed what he was doing as much as Roy was, the other man positively writhing on the bed, however, somehow managing to keep his hips relatively still aside from the quick, inadvertent thrusts he'd sometimes make - all the while making about as many different sounds as Hughes did touches. When Mäes would make a light stroke, Mustang would whimper as if he wanted him to touch harder; when a more forceful stroke was made, he'd moan loudly, still urging him on, and did everything in between, from mewls to shouts to shuddering breaths, sweat beading and rolling off of his skin but not from any withdrawal. The older man then ran the pad of his thumb over the tip of the head, making Roy cry out, whimpering his name afterwards, eyes shut tight and chest heaving.

 

When Hughes felt that the man was getting a little too close to his climax, however, he stopped, and poured more oil into his hand, slicking himself before doing the same thing Roy had done to him the night before, his fingers soon finding the bundle of nerves inside him and causing him to almost shout, knuckles turning white as he clutched harder at the sheets. When Mäes finally inserted himself in, however, he had to wait a moment so that Roy wouldn't accidentally come, such was the pleasure he received, his eyes clouded over by it and gazing distantly into space. He instead went back to kissing and licking his neck, moving down and finding the taste of the massage oil to be odd but not unpleasant. After awhile he started moving at a slow pace, Roy desperately grabbing at his back and hair for something to hold, hissing through clenched teeth at the sensation. Mäes then started thrusting a little faster, gently biting Roy's bottom lip and pulling on it, who responded by leaning forward to kiss him. When the older man gave an especially hard thrust, however, Roy couldn't help but throw his head back and gasp, the other man having to lean forward to chase him, still kissing his bottom lip before dipping his tongue into the open mouth and caressing Roy's with it.

 

Mustang weakly responded, still needing to gasp for air as Hughes went even faster, deciding that he didn't care about prolonging this anymore. Roy then moved his head forward so that he could kiss him as well, soon breaking away to breathe and bite at Hughes' neck near his ear. His hot breath washed over the skin and sent shivers down Mäes' spine, and caused him to exhale a shuddering breath, so close to his orgasm that he wondered if he should slow down or go faster. He decided on the latter and sped up just a little, emitting a half yell, half moan as he came deep inside of the Flame alchemist, Roy following suit soon after and clawing at his back again, letting out an urgent moan into the side of Hughes' neck. The two writhed together in their bliss, limbs tangled and incoherent words being spouted from both mouths until they lay still, panting heavily on each other. Hughes weakly pushed himself up so that he wouldn't be squishing Roy, but he protested and pulled the man back down, panting as he spoke. “No, I like your weight on me. It feels …secure.” he said, looking at him through half-lidded eyes again, and Mäes just nuzzled his face into the crook of his neck, letting his body go limp.

 

After awhile, they both almost dozed off, neither of them having gotten a good sleep the night before. But when it came time to peel apart from each other, they realised that they needed showers, and decided to take another one together, washing each other this time and kissing a little, not getting into anything too serious though; neither had the energy. Once they were both out and in towels, they went straight back to bed, and fell asleep huddled in each other's arms, both feeling extremely happy and safe. To Roy, it was a first, and to Hughes, it made him wonder how he'd lived without the other man before. But, neither thought about it too deeply, just happy with what they had, and that they could finally be together.