"Roy."

"Hm?"

"Roy?"

"What?

"Roy!"

"FOR GODS SAKE, HUGHES, WHAT?!" Roy Mustang shouted, slamming his pen down and glaring at his friend, Maes Hughes.

Hughes huffed, crossed his arms and turned away. "Well, if you're going to be rude, then I don't want to tell you," he said, smirking. He could almost feel Roy's anger rise.

Roy grit his teeth and took a breath. "Just tell me whatever you wanted to tell me," he said, and then added, "please."

Hughes turned around with that shit-eating grin on his face. "Well, since you asked nicely. I was just going to ask if you wanted to go out for a drink after you're done with your paperwork," Maes sat down at the edge of Roy's desk, "you look like you could use a drink or two."

Roy sighed, signed the last piece if paper on his desk and set it aside for Hawkeye. "Yeah, I really could. Thanks," the colonel stood up and went to grab his coat, but Hughes got to it first. He held the coat open, and Roy slipped his arms into the sleeves. "Thank you," he mumbled.

The two men walked down the street and entered a near-by bar. "Two glasses of scotch, please." Hughes ordered. They sat at the bar on two rusty looking bar stools. The bar was old and small, and it smelled of booze and stale peanuts. Music played quietly out of an old record player in the back, it was loud enough for background noise, but quiet enough to have a conversation over. The old bartender, Todd, never changed the volume, and probably never will.

Todd served them their drinks and let them be, if they wanted anything else, he knew they would catch his attention. Hughes took a good look at his friend. They had hardly seen each other outside of work these days, so Maes never got to actually look at him. Roy looked tired. He had bags underneath his eyes, which were red from lack of sleep, and his lips were curved downward into a permanent frown. His shoulders were slumped over and he looked a lot more pale than usual. "You look terrible, Roy," he said finally.

The other man laughed, though it was empty, he didn't even smile with it. It was weird to see someone laugh without smiling; it was actually kind of heartbreaking. "Thanks. Glad to know I look terrible," Roy said, taking a sip of his drink.

"Yeah, and somehow the ladies still love you. I don't get it," Hughes chuckled, taking a sip as well. "Then again, I don't think you've had a date in a while. What's wrong, Roy? Already bang every available girl in Central?" He started to laugh, but stopped when he realized his friend wasn't joining in. Roy gulped down his entire drink, then asked the bartender for another. "Seriously, what's wrong?" Hughes was concerned for his friend; he didn't like seeing him like this.

Roy gulped down his drink as soon as he got it, and forced a smile for his friend. "Nothing is wrong, Maes. I'm ok." His throat burned, and for a second, he wasn't sure if it was from the alcohol, or from the terrible lie he told his friend. He hated lying to Hughes, but he had to.

"Then why no dates lately, hm? I know you've been busy lately, but you've always made time for the ladies."

Roy sighed and ordered another drink, while Hughes hasn't even finished his first. 'Because I'm fucking sick of women,' Roy thought to himself. "Everybody has a change in priorities, Maes." 'And interests. Everybody changes their interests, right?'

"What? Seriously? What could make you change so drastically?" Hughes asked.

"Maybe I haven't changed at all. What if this is who I've always been, and I've just been hiding it from everyone?" 'Myself included. This type of thing doesn't happen overnight; I had to have been born this way. I can't believe I've fooled myself for so long.'

"I guess so. You've always been dedicated to your work, I guess it's about time work was on the top of your list. I don't think you've gone home without finishing your paperwork in weeks. You must be serious about this Fuhrer thing. Isn't that what you want?" Hughes finally finished his drink and ordered another.

'No, you stupid man, I want you!' Roy thought, looking away from his friend. The truth of it all was that Roy was keeping himself busy to keep his mind off of Hughes. Being alone with him like this was driving him mad. "Of course. Now, enough of all this serious talk, let's enjoy ourselves, shall we?"

Hughes was glad to hear Roy say that, all he wanted was to make the man smile and forget about work for once.

"How's Gracia?" Roy asked. He forced his voice to sound happy and genuinely curious. He really didn't care how Gracia was, for all he cared she could be lost in the woods somewhere.

Hughes sighed. "She's alright, I guess. We kind of got in a fight, it was stupid. She's worried for my life or whatever, I told her not to worry and she just kept screaming at me that if I loved her and Elicia I would quit or whatever. She doesn't get that it's not that simple, you know?" Hughes took another drink. "I got so mad when she said that, like she had doubt in my love for them. It's ridiculous. I love my daughter more than anything, and saying that was basically accusing me of not loving her. I've been so mad that I've been sharing a room with Elicia, and let me tell you, that little bed is just the worst." Hughes laughed at that.

"You haven't been sleeping in your own bed?" Roy asked. As far as he knew, Maes has never been mad enough to not even sleep with the woman. Roy made a note to himself; do not question the love Hughes has for his family-EVER. Roy, who had started on another drink, was feeling buzzed. "You should just come over to my place. My bed is much bigger than Elicia's." Roy laughed, for real this time. It was probably just the alcohol.

"Could I really? I mean...just for tonight?" Hughes asked. He finished his second drink and didn't order another. He could tell his friend was getting drunk, and one of them had to be sober enough to hold the other up.

Suddenly Roy flung his arms around Maes, almost spilling his drink in the process, "Of course you can! Don't be stupid!"

Hughes chuckled. He liked it when Roy got drunk; he was so much more easy-going. "Thank you, Roy," he said, he really couldn't stand Elicia's bed anymore, but he was still pretty mad at his wife. Well, not mad, really, he was just upset. He understood where Gracia was coming from, and knew that they probably would never fight like that again, and she had even apologized-but still, it stung. It didn't really matter though, because Maes was happy to be spending so much time with his old friend. Hughes was nervous but also excited to share a bed with his friend, maybe after all these years, he'll find out why so many women fell for the Flame Alchemist...