Fic - Crisis, a Boy's Blue story
Jan. 27th, 2008 10:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cornerofmadnessCrisis
A Boys Blue story
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cornerofmadness (and mjules)
Disclaimer – So not mine, all right belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, no profit made, just a lot of fun to be had
Rating – PG-13 work safe
Pairing – Roy/Maes (mentions of Roy/Riza and Maes/Gracia)
Time Line –pre-series, manga based, this one is set entirely within chapter 59
Summary – All Roy wants to do is comfort Maes after he’s wounded in action but things go very wrong
Prompt – #19 red
Author’s Note – written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
30kisses project for prompt #19 red. This was meant to be a short little hurt/comfort fic but in the middle of the night Roy whispers more of the plot to me. I think ‘isn’t this from TV a long time ago?’ He shrugs and steps back to let Kimbley chime in with more ideas and it degenerated from there. So this is also a homage fic with several shout outs. Virtual gold stars if you find them. If you’d like to read the rest of the series, here you go All the Boys Blues Thanks to evil_little_dog for the beta
X X X
Maes pressed his hand to his head, feeling the damp sticky wad of cloth under his shaking fingers. The sheer pain thrumming through his skull convinced Maes his brain was leaking out. The triage medic told him it was just a shallow graze and since he wasn’t dead yet, Maes had no choice but to believe the medic, no matter how much he hurt.
Maes only hoped word of his injury didn’t wing its way to Roy’s ears. While he was usually in control of his emotions, the news that shrapnel had struck Maes’ head might be too much for Roy to handle. Maes shuddered, pain and fear mixing. Their relationship was just so dangerous.
A man leaned over Maes with a wary smile. “I’m Dr. Todd. I’m going to look at your wound and see if you can wait a little longer.”
“Can I have something for the pain?” Maes panted.
The doctor removed the dressing. Maes grunted at the pain as the blood clotted to the bandage tore free. Todd turned to a nurse. “Get an x-ray to make sure there’s no fracture and we’ll suture him up later.” The doctor put his hand on Maes’ shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine, soldier. We’ll give you a shot for the pain.”
Maes took consolation in that as he was wheeled toward the one and only x-ray unit in the makeshift surgical hospital stationed at the edge of the encampment.
X X X
Roy was surprised to see Maes sitting up next to one of the fires that dotted their encampment, fires designed to drive back the winter chill but unfortunately acting as beacons to the Ishbalans. While Roy hadn’t expected Maes to be kept in the infirmary for a minor head wound, he also hadn’t thought Maes would be up and about. Roy had been rehearsing what he would say in Maes’ less than private quarters so he’d sound like a concerned friend and not a fear-crazed lover. The only other person at the fire was a female soldier who looked more interested in her tin cup of coffee and the battered book she was trying to read by firelight than the soldier opposite the fire.
“Want some coffee, Major Mustang?” Hughes grinned up at him but the smile didn’t blot out the weariness and pain in his eyes.
“Should you even be up?” Roy sat down next to him and the female soldier hadn’t paid him any mind at all. There was no saluting here, no tipping off the Ishbalans to who was in command.
Maes poured some strong, almost thick, coffee into a beat-up cup and handed it to Roy. “No sweetener,” he said, knowing Roy liked a little coffee with his mug of sugar. Roy wrinkled his nose but took it anyhow. “They have me so pumped full of pain killers I could dance naked on hot coals and not notice.”
That made the other soldier peer over the rim of her book. Roy chuckled. “No, but we sure would. Thanks for blinding my mind’s eye.”
“Happy to oblige.” Maes’ grin looked stronger this time.
“Should have known your head was too tough to be hurt by mere bullets,” Roy said, trying not to look at the bandage on his friend’s forehead as he playfully but gently punched Maes’ shoulder. If he thought about it, he might just start screaming or get sick from fear. Jokes were better. Maes could read between the lines. Roy could see it in Maes’ eyes that he understood how frightened Roy had been.
“Just don’t get it in your head that you can hide behind me during the next barrage,” Maes joked back.
Roy snorted. “Don’t worry. You’re too slender to be a human shield.”
“Don’t overestimate how big you are, Roy. You could hide behind a shadow,” Maes shot back.
Roy did an unofficer-like thing and favored his friend with an obscene gesture that made Maes laugh, then groan, holding his head, drawing Roy’s eyes to the dark rust-colored stain on the dressing. Flinching, Roy turned his gaze to the cherry-red heart of the fire, letting the dance of the flames unknot his soul. Even before he had become the Flame Alchemist, in spite of the horrors he had wrought here in the desert, Roy still loved to watch fire move. “Just take care out there, buddy. I don’t want the first time I meet Gracia to be to tell her you’re gone.” There, he had gotten out his fears and worries and cloaked it in just the right words so not to betray them. Roy knew he opened his mouth too fast and too often. He had been cautioned about it before so he was proud of his control now, even if it did elicit a sharp intake of air from his friend. Roy glanced over, an apology swimming in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Maes said, looking down at the fire. “I don’t want you ever to have to go and tell her I was killed in action. Gracia wouldn’t understand this.”
“No one should,” Roy muttered, glancing at the reading woman. She seemed to have them both tuned out but they needed to watch their words.
“The eye of the hawk, the one that’s been watching you so close, is out that way.” Maes pointed to a far ridge. “I’m sorry those eyes have seen too much.”
Roy sighed, nodding. How had he gotten Riza into this? Why had she followed him? Roy couldn’t be sure but he blamed himself any way. Now, instead of being in school and living in her father’s drafty old house, she was here, gun in hand guarding the perimeter set up at a distance that most gunman could barely target anyone at the fires. How could was she out there? Was she frightened or just numb at this point? “So am I.” Roy took a sip of coffee and made a face. “You sure you don’t want to head back to your tent, Hughes?”
Hughes set aside his coffee and got up. “Yeah. Goodnight, Arrowsmith.”
“Night, sir.” The woman waved, barely looking up.
Roy walked with Maes to his friend’s tent, wishing there was a place he could take Maes and show him exactly how he felt but he knew that Maes shouldn’t be walking around too much, certainly not the distance it would take to get some unsafe privacy. There were too many people out in the night for him to bring Maes back to his own tent. In fact, Roy thought absently, there seemed to be too much activity for this time of night. He caught the sleeve of a passing young sergeant who clutched a small propane heater. “Sergeant, what’s going on tonight?”
“There’s a full house in the infirmary, sir, and the doctor’s are still cutting,” the young man said. “The orders came down to appropriate some of the heaters and double up on the bunks in some of the tents.”
“Perfect, more roommates,” Maes grumbled, picking up the pace towards his tent. He opened the flap to see the canvas home filled, including his cot. “What the hell? Kynes?”
Captain Kynes shrugged. “Sorry, Hughes. We thought you were in the infirmary. We heard you’d been shot.”
“They sent me back here,” Maes replied, sounding relieved not to be in a hospital ward with dozens of soldiers groaning in pain in spite of medications.
“They already put some hospital overflow in here.” Kynes swept a hand to a young man with an IV bottle hanging from the stand above his cot.
“It’s no problem,” Roy put in and Maes glanced his way. “Kynes, have a cot sent to my tent and tell infirmary Hughes will be there in case some nurse comes looking to check on his wound. We can straighten this out in the morning. In the meantime, I have room. They don’t bunk other soldiers with us alchemists.”
Kynes shot him a look that said ‘there’s a reason for that, freak,’ but the soldier nodded. Roy tapped Maes’ shoulder and they proceeded to Roy’s tent. Roy swept a hand to his cot. “Lie down. I can wait for the other cot.” Roy went to fire up the propane heater.
“Leave it to you to get me alone for the night.” Maes said ruefully. He unlaced his boots, kicking them off then climbed into the cot, covering up with his thin blanket. “Damn, it is cold, isn’t it? Who thought a desert could get this cold?”
“Not me,” Roy said, not shivering yet like Maes had begun to do. “I’ll put the heater closer to you. You’re the one who lost all the blood.” Roy stared down at Maes. “Don’t do it again.”
“Is that an order?” Maes’ eyes twinkled.
“It’s a plea,” Roy said softly, heading for the cot. He stopped himself, hearing the unmistakable crunch of solid boots on sand and rock. Roy opened the tent flap for the non-comm who came in and set up the cot then left with just a curt, ‘Here you go, sir.’ Roy pushed it closer to Maes’ cot but not so close as to raise an eyebrow should someone barge in unannounced. Roy got his boots off and extinguished his lantern. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, Roy knelt besides Maes. “Please, don’t you get killed. How will I get to the top without you?”
“I have faith that you can do anything you set your mind to, Roy.” Maes reached up and touched Roy’s cheek.
Roy turned his head, kissing Maes’ fingers. “Never underestimate how much I need you, Maes. No matter what our relationship becomes when we leave hell and go home, I will always need you to ground me. Who else will save me from myself?”
Maes’ expression picked up a dire intensity and his fingers groped for the back of Roy’s neck, trying to bring him down to the bed level. Roy went willingly, his mouth meeting Maes’ gently. Maes returned the tender kiss with interest, his hand sliding down Roy’s arm. Roy could feel the energy draining out of his lover. Breaking the kiss, he tucked Maes’ arm back under the rough, threadbare cover.
“Get some sleep, Maes. Those drugs look like they’re taking you down.”
Maes nodded. “If I get cold, you’re coming over here to keep me warm.”
Roy snorted, crawling into his own cot. “Don’t tempt me. I’m already keeping you warm. I’m in the draft here.”
“It’s a tent, Roy. It’s all drafty,” Maes protested and Roy fought the urge to get back up and push their cots together.
He was sitting up, ready to swing his feet out of his cot when someone rapped on the support strut then opened the flap. The end of a cot proceeded Kimbley’s entrance into the tent. A huge gust of cold blasted in, ruffling their bedding. “What the hell, Kimbley? Shut the damn door!”
The Crimson Alchemist, jabbed his cot down, holding it lengthwise. He rolled his eyes. “Figures you’d already have…company.”
Roy’s lips peeled back in a feral grin. “Why are you here?”
“They’re taking everyone’s heaters. Someone had word you already were taking on roomies so they snatched my heater and sent me here,” Kimbley grumbled. “Move closer to Hughes.” His tone suggested Roy was dying to already. Kimbley had suspected Roy and Maes were more than friends ever since the Academy.
Roy didn’t protest. He shoved his cot over towards Maes but it wasn’t going to be any fun with Kimbley right up along side him. Roy didn’t bother telling the other alchemist he would have been better off setting up on the other side of Maes where it was warmer. Let Kimbley be the wind block. “This is just stupid. Why don’t we ever have enough supplies?”
“The Ishbalans robbed the last supply truck,” Maes replied as Kimbley sat down on the cot and pulled his hair free of the ties he used to keep it in a tail.
“Sounds like you and I need to be doing a little more to bring this to a quick close, Flame.” Kimbley’s grin felt frostier than the desert air.
Roy just grunted, ignoring that scary line of thought. “Think it will snow?”
“Don’t care,” Kimbley said. “Try not to hog up all the heat there, hanging out in the middle like that, Mustang.”
“I’m not hogging anything,” Roy replied through gritted teeth.
“Tell it to someone who didn’t room with you for a year. You’re greedy,” Kimbley shot back.
Roy rolled up on one arm, looking at Maes. “You roomed with me for a year, too. Am I greedy, Maes?”
Maes cracked an eye open. “I’m drugged to the gills. Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Oh…everyone just shut up and go to sleep.” Roy griped, flopping back on his cot.
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than someone else knocked on the tent strut. Armstrong pushed his way in leaving, Roy with an uncomfortable image of a baby worming free of its mother, something he had seen once when an alchemist friend of Hawkeye’s had taken him with her to work some healing alchemy on a birthing mother. Another blast of cold followed him. Armstrong turned apologetic blue eyes on them. “Sorry, they asked if I would bunker down with you.”
Roy managed to keep his ‘where the hell do you think you’ll fit in here?’ to himself. “Uh, sure, find a spot, Strongarm.”
Armstrong looked around the room then said, “If we push this cot closer to yours, I’ll fit right over here.” He gestured to Maes’ cot and the captain’s eyebrows lifted so high, Roy waited for them to split open the stitches in the man’s forehead.
“All right. Up, Maes.” Roy said, swinging out of bed.
“I’ll be right back. I have to finish my evening ablutions,” Armstrong said, squeezing back out the door. Roy shivered and yelled for the door to be shut again.
”I do not want to know what that entails.” Kimbley shuddered as Roy made Maes get up. “They sent the wrong Armstrong. Have you seen his sister?”
“Colonel Armstrong?” Roy had run across Olivia’s path once. He still had frostbite.
“She is amazingly sexy…probably cuts off men’s’ balls and fries them in butter for breakfast, though.” Kimbley sighed, massaging his scalp.
“Frankly, she frightens me,” Maes said, getting back into bed after Roy yanked the cot up against his own. He shot Roy a look that said, ‘hey, we’re getting to sleep together after all.’
Roy answered him with a ‘so what?’ look of his own. What good did it do him with Kimbley and Armstrong in the room? Roy crawled back into his cot, lying on his side so he could watch Maes and dream that they were alone. Armstrong came back and settled on his cot which groaned ominously.
“If it gets cold enough, they ought to start stacking some women in here with us,” Kimbley remarked just as everyone was nearly ready to drop off to sleep. “Like that red headed nurse or that sniper. You know the one, Flame, with those beautiful mounds.” Kimbley mimed squeezing breasts.
“That’s no way to talk about a lady, Crimson,” Armstrong scolded.
“You know who I mean, right, Flame?” Kimbley completely ignored Armstrong.
Roy wondered if Kimbley was going to be picking on him all night. “No, I don’t.”
“Sure you do. The blonde. I’ve seen her talking to you.”
Roy made a face in the dark. “Hawkeye? Leave her out of this.”
“Ah, so you wouldn’t be complaining too hard if we requested her join the slumber party.” Kimbley laughed and Roy flinched, damning himself for being so transparent.
“Will you shut up so we can sleep?” Roy spat and the tent fell silent again for all of five minutes before Armstrong started snoring stentoriously. “Oh for the love of hell. How can the Ishbalans miss targeting that?”
“Roll him over on his side,” Maes said and Roy gave him a fiery look.
“Do I look capable of that? It would take the three of us to move him,” Roy shot back.
“Kill him,” Kimbley offered unhelpfully. “Told you they sent the wrong Armstrong.”
“Well, at least you’ll still have your balls in the morning,” Maes said wryly.
“Do you have any pain pills left, Hughes? Maybe I can drug myself to sleep,” Roy whined.
“Good try but no.” Maes put a hand over one ear and buried the other in the pillow.
“I still say we need a Hawkeye here or maybe a still,” Kimbley said, obviously having given up on sleep.
“Forget Hawkeye, damn it.” Roy said then paused. “A still?”
“We could make gin,” Kimbley explained patiently.
“That’s illegal,” Roy replied.
“You’re like an uptight little virgin sometimes, Flame, you know that?” Kimbley grumbled.
“You two are alchemists. You have distilling equipment,” Maes said, not ruling out the idea of illicit alcohol production.
“I didn’t bring my lab to the front with me, Maes. Forget Hawkeye. Forget the still.” Roy cast a withering glance at Armstrong. “Forget sleep.”
“See, if we had alcohol right now, we could mellow you out before your blood pressure explodes your brain,” Kimbley said, flipping over to face the outer wall.
Roy held his tongue and watched Maes again. He didn’t need a still, though he wouldn’t turn down Hawkeye. All he really needed was to be minus two alchemists and have Maes to himself. Knowing he wasn’t going to get that, Roy contented himself with the memory of their earlier kiss and fantasy. His eyes were just closing as he heard from Kimbley, “Seriously, this just doesn’t feel right without Hawkeye and a still for some reason.”
Roy changed his fantasy to strangling Kimbley with his own ponytail and fell promptly into a happy sleep.
A Boys Blue story
cornerofmadness (and mjules)Disclaimer – So not mine, all right belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, no profit made, just a lot of fun to be had
Rating – PG-13 work safe
Pairing – Roy/Maes (mentions of Roy/Riza and Maes/Gracia)
Time Line –pre-series, manga based, this one is set entirely within chapter 59
Summary – All Roy wants to do is comfort Maes after he’s wounded in action but things go very wrong
Prompt – #19 red
Author’s Note – written for the
30kisses project for prompt #19 red. This was meant to be a short little hurt/comfort fic but in the middle of the night Roy whispers more of the plot to me. I think ‘isn’t this from TV a long time ago?’ He shrugs and steps back to let Kimbley chime in with more ideas and it degenerated from there. So this is also a homage fic with several shout outs. Virtual gold stars if you find them. If you’d like to read the rest of the series, here you go All the Boys Blues Thanks to evil_little_dog for the betaX X X
Maes pressed his hand to his head, feeling the damp sticky wad of cloth under his shaking fingers. The sheer pain thrumming through his skull convinced Maes his brain was leaking out. The triage medic told him it was just a shallow graze and since he wasn’t dead yet, Maes had no choice but to believe the medic, no matter how much he hurt.
Maes only hoped word of his injury didn’t wing its way to Roy’s ears. While he was usually in control of his emotions, the news that shrapnel had struck Maes’ head might be too much for Roy to handle. Maes shuddered, pain and fear mixing. Their relationship was just so dangerous.
A man leaned over Maes with a wary smile. “I’m Dr. Todd. I’m going to look at your wound and see if you can wait a little longer.”
“Can I have something for the pain?” Maes panted.
The doctor removed the dressing. Maes grunted at the pain as the blood clotted to the bandage tore free. Todd turned to a nurse. “Get an x-ray to make sure there’s no fracture and we’ll suture him up later.” The doctor put his hand on Maes’ shoulder. “You’re going to be just fine, soldier. We’ll give you a shot for the pain.”
Maes took consolation in that as he was wheeled toward the one and only x-ray unit in the makeshift surgical hospital stationed at the edge of the encampment.
X X X
Roy was surprised to see Maes sitting up next to one of the fires that dotted their encampment, fires designed to drive back the winter chill but unfortunately acting as beacons to the Ishbalans. While Roy hadn’t expected Maes to be kept in the infirmary for a minor head wound, he also hadn’t thought Maes would be up and about. Roy had been rehearsing what he would say in Maes’ less than private quarters so he’d sound like a concerned friend and not a fear-crazed lover. The only other person at the fire was a female soldier who looked more interested in her tin cup of coffee and the battered book she was trying to read by firelight than the soldier opposite the fire.
“Want some coffee, Major Mustang?” Hughes grinned up at him but the smile didn’t blot out the weariness and pain in his eyes.
“Should you even be up?” Roy sat down next to him and the female soldier hadn’t paid him any mind at all. There was no saluting here, no tipping off the Ishbalans to who was in command.
Maes poured some strong, almost thick, coffee into a beat-up cup and handed it to Roy. “No sweetener,” he said, knowing Roy liked a little coffee with his mug of sugar. Roy wrinkled his nose but took it anyhow. “They have me so pumped full of pain killers I could dance naked on hot coals and not notice.”
That made the other soldier peer over the rim of her book. Roy chuckled. “No, but we sure would. Thanks for blinding my mind’s eye.”
“Happy to oblige.” Maes’ grin looked stronger this time.
“Should have known your head was too tough to be hurt by mere bullets,” Roy said, trying not to look at the bandage on his friend’s forehead as he playfully but gently punched Maes’ shoulder. If he thought about it, he might just start screaming or get sick from fear. Jokes were better. Maes could read between the lines. Roy could see it in Maes’ eyes that he understood how frightened Roy had been.
“Just don’t get it in your head that you can hide behind me during the next barrage,” Maes joked back.
Roy snorted. “Don’t worry. You’re too slender to be a human shield.”
“Don’t overestimate how big you are, Roy. You could hide behind a shadow,” Maes shot back.
Roy did an unofficer-like thing and favored his friend with an obscene gesture that made Maes laugh, then groan, holding his head, drawing Roy’s eyes to the dark rust-colored stain on the dressing. Flinching, Roy turned his gaze to the cherry-red heart of the fire, letting the dance of the flames unknot his soul. Even before he had become the Flame Alchemist, in spite of the horrors he had wrought here in the desert, Roy still loved to watch fire move. “Just take care out there, buddy. I don’t want the first time I meet Gracia to be to tell her you’re gone.” There, he had gotten out his fears and worries and cloaked it in just the right words so not to betray them. Roy knew he opened his mouth too fast and too often. He had been cautioned about it before so he was proud of his control now, even if it did elicit a sharp intake of air from his friend. Roy glanced over, an apology swimming in his eyes.
“Yeah,” Maes said, looking down at the fire. “I don’t want you ever to have to go and tell her I was killed in action. Gracia wouldn’t understand this.”
“No one should,” Roy muttered, glancing at the reading woman. She seemed to have them both tuned out but they needed to watch their words.
“The eye of the hawk, the one that’s been watching you so close, is out that way.” Maes pointed to a far ridge. “I’m sorry those eyes have seen too much.”
Roy sighed, nodding. How had he gotten Riza into this? Why had she followed him? Roy couldn’t be sure but he blamed himself any way. Now, instead of being in school and living in her father’s drafty old house, she was here, gun in hand guarding the perimeter set up at a distance that most gunman could barely target anyone at the fires. How could was she out there? Was she frightened or just numb at this point? “So am I.” Roy took a sip of coffee and made a face. “You sure you don’t want to head back to your tent, Hughes?”
Hughes set aside his coffee and got up. “Yeah. Goodnight, Arrowsmith.”
“Night, sir.” The woman waved, barely looking up.
Roy walked with Maes to his friend’s tent, wishing there was a place he could take Maes and show him exactly how he felt but he knew that Maes shouldn’t be walking around too much, certainly not the distance it would take to get some unsafe privacy. There were too many people out in the night for him to bring Maes back to his own tent. In fact, Roy thought absently, there seemed to be too much activity for this time of night. He caught the sleeve of a passing young sergeant who clutched a small propane heater. “Sergeant, what’s going on tonight?”
“There’s a full house in the infirmary, sir, and the doctor’s are still cutting,” the young man said. “The orders came down to appropriate some of the heaters and double up on the bunks in some of the tents.”
“Perfect, more roommates,” Maes grumbled, picking up the pace towards his tent. He opened the flap to see the canvas home filled, including his cot. “What the hell? Kynes?”
Captain Kynes shrugged. “Sorry, Hughes. We thought you were in the infirmary. We heard you’d been shot.”
“They sent me back here,” Maes replied, sounding relieved not to be in a hospital ward with dozens of soldiers groaning in pain in spite of medications.
“They already put some hospital overflow in here.” Kynes swept a hand to a young man with an IV bottle hanging from the stand above his cot.
“It’s no problem,” Roy put in and Maes glanced his way. “Kynes, have a cot sent to my tent and tell infirmary Hughes will be there in case some nurse comes looking to check on his wound. We can straighten this out in the morning. In the meantime, I have room. They don’t bunk other soldiers with us alchemists.”
Kynes shot him a look that said ‘there’s a reason for that, freak,’ but the soldier nodded. Roy tapped Maes’ shoulder and they proceeded to Roy’s tent. Roy swept a hand to his cot. “Lie down. I can wait for the other cot.” Roy went to fire up the propane heater.
“Leave it to you to get me alone for the night.” Maes said ruefully. He unlaced his boots, kicking them off then climbed into the cot, covering up with his thin blanket. “Damn, it is cold, isn’t it? Who thought a desert could get this cold?”
“Not me,” Roy said, not shivering yet like Maes had begun to do. “I’ll put the heater closer to you. You’re the one who lost all the blood.” Roy stared down at Maes. “Don’t do it again.”
“Is that an order?” Maes’ eyes twinkled.
“It’s a plea,” Roy said softly, heading for the cot. He stopped himself, hearing the unmistakable crunch of solid boots on sand and rock. Roy opened the tent flap for the non-comm who came in and set up the cot then left with just a curt, ‘Here you go, sir.’ Roy pushed it closer to Maes’ cot but not so close as to raise an eyebrow should someone barge in unannounced. Roy got his boots off and extinguished his lantern. Giving his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness, Roy knelt besides Maes. “Please, don’t you get killed. How will I get to the top without you?”
“I have faith that you can do anything you set your mind to, Roy.” Maes reached up and touched Roy’s cheek.
Roy turned his head, kissing Maes’ fingers. “Never underestimate how much I need you, Maes. No matter what our relationship becomes when we leave hell and go home, I will always need you to ground me. Who else will save me from myself?”
Maes’ expression picked up a dire intensity and his fingers groped for the back of Roy’s neck, trying to bring him down to the bed level. Roy went willingly, his mouth meeting Maes’ gently. Maes returned the tender kiss with interest, his hand sliding down Roy’s arm. Roy could feel the energy draining out of his lover. Breaking the kiss, he tucked Maes’ arm back under the rough, threadbare cover.
“Get some sleep, Maes. Those drugs look like they’re taking you down.”
Maes nodded. “If I get cold, you’re coming over here to keep me warm.”
Roy snorted, crawling into his own cot. “Don’t tempt me. I’m already keeping you warm. I’m in the draft here.”
“It’s a tent, Roy. It’s all drafty,” Maes protested and Roy fought the urge to get back up and push their cots together.
He was sitting up, ready to swing his feet out of his cot when someone rapped on the support strut then opened the flap. The end of a cot proceeded Kimbley’s entrance into the tent. A huge gust of cold blasted in, ruffling their bedding. “What the hell, Kimbley? Shut the damn door!”
The Crimson Alchemist, jabbed his cot down, holding it lengthwise. He rolled his eyes. “Figures you’d already have…company.”
Roy’s lips peeled back in a feral grin. “Why are you here?”
“They’re taking everyone’s heaters. Someone had word you already were taking on roomies so they snatched my heater and sent me here,” Kimbley grumbled. “Move closer to Hughes.” His tone suggested Roy was dying to already. Kimbley had suspected Roy and Maes were more than friends ever since the Academy.
Roy didn’t protest. He shoved his cot over towards Maes but it wasn’t going to be any fun with Kimbley right up along side him. Roy didn’t bother telling the other alchemist he would have been better off setting up on the other side of Maes where it was warmer. Let Kimbley be the wind block. “This is just stupid. Why don’t we ever have enough supplies?”
“The Ishbalans robbed the last supply truck,” Maes replied as Kimbley sat down on the cot and pulled his hair free of the ties he used to keep it in a tail.
“Sounds like you and I need to be doing a little more to bring this to a quick close, Flame.” Kimbley’s grin felt frostier than the desert air.
Roy just grunted, ignoring that scary line of thought. “Think it will snow?”
“Don’t care,” Kimbley said. “Try not to hog up all the heat there, hanging out in the middle like that, Mustang.”
“I’m not hogging anything,” Roy replied through gritted teeth.
“Tell it to someone who didn’t room with you for a year. You’re greedy,” Kimbley shot back.
Roy rolled up on one arm, looking at Maes. “You roomed with me for a year, too. Am I greedy, Maes?”
Maes cracked an eye open. “I’m drugged to the gills. Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Oh…everyone just shut up and go to sleep.” Roy griped, flopping back on his cot.
No sooner did the words leave his mouth than someone else knocked on the tent strut. Armstrong pushed his way in leaving, Roy with an uncomfortable image of a baby worming free of its mother, something he had seen once when an alchemist friend of Hawkeye’s had taken him with her to work some healing alchemy on a birthing mother. Another blast of cold followed him. Armstrong turned apologetic blue eyes on them. “Sorry, they asked if I would bunker down with you.”
Roy managed to keep his ‘where the hell do you think you’ll fit in here?’ to himself. “Uh, sure, find a spot, Strongarm.”
Armstrong looked around the room then said, “If we push this cot closer to yours, I’ll fit right over here.” He gestured to Maes’ cot and the captain’s eyebrows lifted so high, Roy waited for them to split open the stitches in the man’s forehead.
“All right. Up, Maes.” Roy said, swinging out of bed.
“I’ll be right back. I have to finish my evening ablutions,” Armstrong said, squeezing back out the door. Roy shivered and yelled for the door to be shut again.
”I do not want to know what that entails.” Kimbley shuddered as Roy made Maes get up. “They sent the wrong Armstrong. Have you seen his sister?”
“Colonel Armstrong?” Roy had run across Olivia’s path once. He still had frostbite.
“She is amazingly sexy…probably cuts off men’s’ balls and fries them in butter for breakfast, though.” Kimbley sighed, massaging his scalp.
“Frankly, she frightens me,” Maes said, getting back into bed after Roy yanked the cot up against his own. He shot Roy a look that said, ‘hey, we’re getting to sleep together after all.’
Roy answered him with a ‘so what?’ look of his own. What good did it do him with Kimbley and Armstrong in the room? Roy crawled back into his cot, lying on his side so he could watch Maes and dream that they were alone. Armstrong came back and settled on his cot which groaned ominously.
“If it gets cold enough, they ought to start stacking some women in here with us,” Kimbley remarked just as everyone was nearly ready to drop off to sleep. “Like that red headed nurse or that sniper. You know the one, Flame, with those beautiful mounds.” Kimbley mimed squeezing breasts.
“That’s no way to talk about a lady, Crimson,” Armstrong scolded.
“You know who I mean, right, Flame?” Kimbley completely ignored Armstrong.
Roy wondered if Kimbley was going to be picking on him all night. “No, I don’t.”
“Sure you do. The blonde. I’ve seen her talking to you.”
Roy made a face in the dark. “Hawkeye? Leave her out of this.”
“Ah, so you wouldn’t be complaining too hard if we requested her join the slumber party.” Kimbley laughed and Roy flinched, damning himself for being so transparent.
“Will you shut up so we can sleep?” Roy spat and the tent fell silent again for all of five minutes before Armstrong started snoring stentoriously. “Oh for the love of hell. How can the Ishbalans miss targeting that?”
“Roll him over on his side,” Maes said and Roy gave him a fiery look.
“Do I look capable of that? It would take the three of us to move him,” Roy shot back.
“Kill him,” Kimbley offered unhelpfully. “Told you they sent the wrong Armstrong.”
“Well, at least you’ll still have your balls in the morning,” Maes said wryly.
“Do you have any pain pills left, Hughes? Maybe I can drug myself to sleep,” Roy whined.
“Good try but no.” Maes put a hand over one ear and buried the other in the pillow.
“I still say we need a Hawkeye here or maybe a still,” Kimbley said, obviously having given up on sleep.
“Forget Hawkeye, damn it.” Roy said then paused. “A still?”
“We could make gin,” Kimbley explained patiently.
“That’s illegal,” Roy replied.
“You’re like an uptight little virgin sometimes, Flame, you know that?” Kimbley grumbled.
“You two are alchemists. You have distilling equipment,” Maes said, not ruling out the idea of illicit alcohol production.
“I didn’t bring my lab to the front with me, Maes. Forget Hawkeye. Forget the still.” Roy cast a withering glance at Armstrong. “Forget sleep.”
“See, if we had alcohol right now, we could mellow you out before your blood pressure explodes your brain,” Kimbley said, flipping over to face the outer wall.
Roy held his tongue and watched Maes again. He didn’t need a still, though he wouldn’t turn down Hawkeye. All he really needed was to be minus two alchemists and have Maes to himself. Knowing he wasn’t going to get that, Roy contented himself with the memory of their earlier kiss and fantasy. His eyes were just closing as he heard from Kimbley, “Seriously, this just doesn’t feel right without Hawkeye and a still for some reason.”
Roy changed his fantasy to strangling Kimbley with his own ponytail and fell promptly into a happy sleep.
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Date: 2008-01-28 03:35 am (UTC)I know, I know! I know where this came from! *laughs* You did a good job including the funny, too.
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Date: 2008-01-28 04:07 am (UTC)and thanks. Funny is hard.
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Date: 2008-01-28 05:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 01:24 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 04:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 05:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-28 05:03 am (UTC)O_o I love it, but where did it come from? I woulda NEVER thought of something like this. Awesome, but seriously... WHERE?
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Date: 2008-01-28 01:25 pm (UTC)and thanks
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Date: 2008-01-28 10:48 pm (UTC)Awesome. You're welcome. Keep writing!
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Date: 2008-01-29 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-29 12:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-29 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-29 03:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-29 04:08 am (UTC)