Title: Old.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist.
Characters: Roy Mustang, Edward Elric.
Rating: R.
Genre: Humor.
Notes: Written for velvetmaze, whom I stalk silently. Read the rants, read the fiction, bow to God. XD Happy Birthday and... no hard feelings, ok?
Old.
Roy groaned into his pillow. Damn. He was awake even before the alarm started wailing... because the damn thing wailed, there was no other word to describe the screeching that came out of it and thus, his absolute hatred for it. Havoc had a mean sense of humor for birthday gifts. Blinking - and that was a feat on itself, to do it while pressing one's face against a pillow - he turned around until he was resting on his back and stared at the ceiling. With a certain sense of awe, he realized it was his birthday. He had survived another year.
Outside it was still dark, no traces of early morning sun to make him feel marginally better, and he indulged himself in a small groan.
His birthday. He'd turned forty.
It felt... strange. Not bad, but different. He hadn't really expected to live long enough to turn forty. Hell, after his involvement with the Elrics, he had been surprised to have been able to see past his thirties. But forty... that sounded, well, special. Important, somehow. Forty was associated with Generals and High Ranking people, members of the Parliament. He had become a General while still on his twenties. Roy couldn't really put a finger on it, but he felt slightly disturbed. Forty sounded so... well, old.
"Must you be sulking at unholy hours of the morning?" Came the sleepy reply from beside him, as the source of warmth shifted and draped itself all over him.
Roy grinned wryly.
"Maybe," Letting a hand fall over his lover's shoulders, relaxing a bit, "I'm old."
There was a snort, and the bite of cold automail on his chest as golden eyes opened a slit to peer at him, amused.
"If you're old, I'm ancient," The Fullmetal Alchemist told him frankly, closing his eyes again and settling to sleep and hour - or four - more, "No old man could have tired me like you did last night."
Roy blinked, then grinned the same silly grin he had been wearing when Ed came back through the Gate, all those years ago.
"Happy Birthday, Bastard Colonel, Shit General, Roy Mustang, Fucking Tease, whatever you're calling yourself these days," Blonde hair spilled on his chest as Ed snuggled up against him, muttering under his breath, "Old. Bah. Drama Queen. Talk to Pinako, that'll show you old. Hn. Bastard. Old of all things... and what else."
Roy wore his silly grin to work and got a risen eyebrow from all his subordinates. He accepted the gifts, cards and whatnot graciously and was in too much of a good mood for someone who had just turned forty. Yeah, he was forty, big deal. At least he knew he had been spending good years in more than good company. And if what was waiting him home was anything like what he'd gotten in the morning, he knew his best years were yet to come.
Old, ha. Roy Mustang would never be old. At least as long as he had to be around to keep a certain blonde Alchemist in line.