For Hyuroi week 2017, day three- rivalry. Inspired by dailymaeshughes over on tumblr, who drew an awesome art for this idea, which you should go look at. Roy and Hughes look like such massive dorks and I just wanna hug them. Anyway, was written very quickly in under twelve hours, and fluff is... not my forte... but, I tried ;u;

AU in which everything is the same, but Hughes is the Glacier Alchemist. As to what's going on here- actual Hyuroi? OT3? Just Hughes/Gracia? Pick whichever tickles your fancy and go with it! Enjoy :)

"First thing's first. Roy Mustang: you are going to pay for my husband's replacement glasses, a new tie, and our dry cleaning. Maes: you are going to pay for all of the hot chocolate your friend is currently consuming. Do we understand each other?"

"Yes, dear."

"Y-yes, m-m-ma'am."

"Secondly. If I ever catch you two doing this again, I will confiscate both of your gloves, until you've learned how to play nice with each other. And do not even start to give me that look, Roy Mustang, because you know full well Lieutenant Hawkeye will side with me and hold onto your gloves until you stop trying to kill my husband."

"...y-yes, ma'am."

"Thirdly... Flame. Glacier." Her eyes flashed, and in them was nothing but sheer danger. "If I leave the room to work on dinner, will I return and find my apartment a fiery, icy mess? Or are you two capable of sitting here peacefully without a mediator standing by to stop and and all arguments from escalating into a full blown war?"

"The... latter, honey."

And with that, the steely, disapproving stare finally softened, and Gracia nodded.

"Good!" she announced, smiling sweetly. "So I'll leave you two alone, then." Turning briskly on her heel, she then departed, and the two foolish men were left alone at last: Maes, both hands stuck in bowls of ice water, his clothes dusted head to foot with soot, and nearly his whole face pink and blistered; Roy, huddled underneath two soft, fuzzy blankets, complexion some sort of unsettling balance between grey and almost blue, and shivering violently.

They both looked horrible. They both felt terrible.

They both also felt rather pathetic. Gracia's- well deserved- lambasting had done exactly nothing to help this.

For several seconds, there was silence, save the dripping of water from Maes' iced hands and Roy's still soaked hair.

Then, the both of them dissolved into strained, exhausted laughter, sharing a look bright with tired amusement, and just like that, the tension was gone.

Maes slumped back against his couch, still laughing quietly, and his burned face relaxed into an exhausted smile. "Looks like Gracia is the real winner here, then. ...Truce?"

Roy nodded back, still clutching his blankets to him in an almost desperate attempt to ward off the chill that seemed to have already made a home deep in his bones and looked to never be leaving again. He would've felt worse for burning his best friend if he wasn't so sure Maes had done his best to try and freeze him to death. "T-truce," he moaned, and hiked the outermost layer up even closer to his chin.

Not that he was actually admitting that he couldn't beat Maes. No. No, he wasn't doing that. Never in his life would he do that.

He was not, however, interested in being this cold ever again, whether to prove the damn point to his best friend or not.

God, I'm freezing.

Maes melted back towards his cushions, fingers flexing slowly. He nodded once, sending a forlorn look towards the pile of their alchemy gloves, which Roy followed with a sleepy sort of curiosity. One single white and red glove, spectacularly awesome, pooled with one single black and grey one, spectacularly not awesome. The matches lay with their owners, and Roy shifted, wrapping his still cold fingers around his glove, just as much as a security blanket as the actual blankets wrapped around him.

"Our talents are probably best put towards not killing each other, anyway," Maes sighed, and Roy didn't doubt his friend was fingering his own glove as well. "Just maiming ourselves within an inch of death is good with me."

"M-make that h-half an inch," Roy growled, giving a dirty look towards his pile of blankets.

Maes smirked. "Whatever." He shifted again, wincing as the move irritated his blistered hands, then sighed as he nodded towards the kitchen. "I hate it when she calls me Glacier. That means I'm sleeping on the couch for a week."

Roy tried to manage a smirk of his own, but with his teeth still chattering, he wasn't sure how well he actually pulled it off. "Oh, boo hoo." He sunk deeper into his blankets, legs tucked closer underneath him so every bit of him was wrapped in the dry, blessed warmth. It still didn't work. He was still freezing. The chill had already eaten past every layer to devour him from the inside out, and it sucked. "M-meanwhile, I'm over h-here, s-s-stuck paying for y-your replacement g-g-glasses. S-seeing as your blind as a b-bat, I'm sure that'll b-be an entire p-p-paycheck. Th-thanks for n-not dodging."

Maes made a face at him, looking just this side of sticking his tongue out at him and definitely not looking very sympathetic. "Maybe you shouldn't have aimed for my face, then," he pointed out, and Roy just sank back into his blankets with another grumble.

He supposed Maes really was the one worse off here, even though he currently felt like a pathetic, miserable ice cube over here- and surely looked a little bit like one, too. Maes really was ludicrously blind without his lenses, and Roy- in a feat of alchemic precision and control he still felt should've given him the title of victor all by itself- had not only knocked the glasses off with a perfectly controlled explosion had burned his fingers without burning them off. He couldn't even put his contacts in. Something Roy had found perfectly hilarious, until Gracia had turned her dangerous frown on him, and inquired to him just what about her poor, vision impaired husband it was that he found so funny.

Maes quietly snickering at him then had, thankfully, also been shut up by Gracia, the woman asking him just what he was laughing at, Mr. Thinks it's Fun to Get Set on Fire, and just like that, the both of them had been thoroughly cowed and reprimanded, reminded of who the real winner was here. Gracia Hughes, in all her glory, for putting up with the both of them.

Another round of shivering hit him, violent shudders that wracked him from head to toe, this time joined by a sneeze. He shook his head vigorously, desperately trying to clear it, then just gave up trying to get comfortable and pressed his face miserably to the nearest pillow. And speaking of Gracia Hughes putting up with them, he had the feeling he was going to be imposing, and sneezing, a lot more on her gracious courtesy tonight. "If I g-get s-sick, I'm really g-going to kill you, M-Maes. T-truce or not." It would be just his luck, too. Hypothermia, frostbite, pneumonia- whatever the cause, he was doomed. He was most certainly, most undeniably, doomed. He was going to sneeze himself to death, left to slowly wither and die alone in a mountain of tissues and blankets, and no one would even care. He wondered if anyone would even come to the funeral. Probably not. Gracia and Riza would surely have no sympathy for him. Maes might attend, just to stand nearby to laugh at his misfortune the entire time. Probably would even make it snow on his coffin, just because he could. He almost wanted to cry."I m-mean it, Hughes... if I g-get s-s-sick f-from this..."

"Yeah, yeah," Maes grunted carelessly. He looked spectacularly unconcerned by the death threa, to the point that Roy was almost tempted to pull his glove on and snap, just to roast a little bit of his hair again and make his point. He was all together too cold for such a thing, though, and just sat in silence instead, still shivering, still miserable. He watched as Maes sent another frown at his burned hands, wincing as the expression pulled at his blistered face, then sunk even more onto his side, trying to get comfortable and keep his hands iced at the same time. "Do you even remember how this horrible idea for an alchemic standoff started, Roy? Why on earth we thought this would end any way other than embarrassingly and painfully?"

"N-no. I don't," he said bluntly. "Blame for which, I'm sure, goes to the block of ice you chucked at my face." And ow, had that one hurt, not to mention creating one of his lamest stories for a black eye ever. His best friend, once again, ruining his life. Nothing new to see here. God, the look Riza was going to give him when he told her the reason his face looked like when he had to explain this one... he could already feel himself dying of the shame. He shot another dark glare at Maes. "I'm quite p-positive it was all your f-fault, though."

"Considering you love being an ass to everyone and their mother, I find it hard to believe I instigated this. But, if it makes you feel better, go ahead; blame me." Maes grinned cheekily, so cheekily Roy found himself fighting off the momentary urge to punch the glee straight off his face. Maes had a peculiar talent for being so sunnily cheerful it galled Roy- like an emotion that pure and intense didn't even have a right to exist. He at once hated and loved it, though, at the moment, he really just hated it. "Whatever you need to tell yourself, Roy-boy."

"And I'm the ass?" Scowling, Roy resolved to just forget the whole thing as he hunkered down deeper into his blankets. He didn't care whose fault it was anymore (Hughes, it was most definitely all on him), he just wanted to sleep for a century. Oh, and perhaps crawl over to the fireplace before he did it. Yes. Yes, that sounded nice. He could stay in his blanket burrito, and worm his way over to the fireplace, and then just sit there for all eternity, curled around his wonderful element to never have to deal with Hughes or feel cold again. Yes, that was what he would do. Worm his way over to the fireplace, sit there in a bundle of blankets, and be blissfully happy and warm forever. Maes, as far as he was concerned, could just stop existing, or go bury himself in a snowdrift somewhere. Let him go deal with cold, since he seemed to like it so much-

Wait...

Roy's eyes widened, and just like that, the memory returned.

"That's it! I r-remember now- what c-caused all of this! It w-w-was you!"

Maes gave him another highly amused look, sort of; his eyes were unfocused and didn't really meet his all that well. Roy's sympathy was ruined, however, by his friend's next comment. "Like I said, whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear friend."

"What... n-no, it was you," he snarled. He started to sit up for a vicious fingerpoint, then dropped back down when he realized that would mean inching out of his blankets. He didn't care if he looked pathetic, he was cold and it was all Maes' fault so these blankets were now his and he was never leaving them again. He could still, however, accuse Maes from within the safety of their confines, and that was exactly what he planned to do now. "I r-remember exactly now. You said ice was c-cooler than f-fire!"

He did remember it exactly now, the exact smug look in his eyes, that stupid smug grin, even the exact delivery of that stupidly smug line- he'd looked so proud of himself, too, like it was his greatest achievement-

"Gah," Roy spat, glaring again. "It w-wasn't your ice block to the head that made me forget. I bl-bl-blocked it out!" And if his teeth couldn't stop damn chattering, he was going to knock them out himself.

Maes blinked at him. He stared dumbly for a long moment, utterly lost- but then, when the memory finally hit him, his reaction was not at all what Roy had been hoping for.

He laughed at him.

He laughed at him.

"Oh. Seriously? That was what made you challenge me? Really, Roy? That was it?" Laughing again, Maes thoughtlessly started to raise a hand to gesture at him, then winced severely and dumped it instantly back into the melting ice water. "Ah- ow ow ow- ow-" he hissed, squirming and twisting, grin overtaken by a grimace, "ah... okay... ow..."

Roy smirked. He had blankets, and Maes had ice water. Once again- score one for Roy. "And, what w-was that you were saying, about you being better than m-me...?"

Maes' answering glare was just as annoyed as he'd been aiming for. "I never said I was better than you... even though I am. I said that I was cooler. Which, I am. Incontrovertible, undeniable fact. A fact so undeniable even you can't possibly deny it."

"Do you w-want me to call off this truce, Maes, because, I s-s-swear to god-"

"Ice is cooler than fire. That's a fact. Undeniable fact." And he was positively beaming now, once again almost criminally proud of himself. "Ice is cooler than fire, Roy! Which makes me cooler than you- and it is not my fault that you are unable to grasp this simple fact."

"It's not the f-fact that I'm incapable of grasping!" Glowering, Roy kicked at his smothering blankets, squirming around to get some freedom of motion back rather than just sit there as a ball incased in fluff. He had half a mind to kick the blankets straight off to dump then over Maes' head, but- no. Still much too cold for that. "I r-r-refuse to acknowledge your sickening p-puns- that's what I'm incapable of grasping, H-Hughes. If this even q-qualifies as one; you put so little effort into it I th-think I feel bad even giving it that m-much. But, regardless- I will never acknowledge them. They are the l-lowest form of humor p-possible and I r-refuse to give them any credence whatsoever." It was one of his many rules, which Maes was well aware of: puns, in any way, shape, or form, were not allowed. They would never be allowed. They were the lowest of low brow humor, a shabby excuse for anything that required real intelligence or wit, and he would not have them said in his presence by anyone who expected his respect.

Maes, once again, smirked.

"And once again," the bastard continued slowly, radiating his air of gleeful smugness, "it is not my fault, that you were tragically born lacking the ability to appreciate my amaes~ing humor."

Utter silence. Roy could hear the clock ticking.

"Oh, come on, Roy." There was no question about it any more- Maes looked so unbelievably proud of himself it was painful. He wondered if it was possible for his friend to get so proud his head popped. "Don't tell me you don't find my corny jokes funny. I know how much you secretly love old Maes' corny jokes... after all, it'd be impossible for you not to find them funny..." He trailed off, another horrifyingly self-satisfied, smug grin coming to his features. "Kernel."

He hated his life.

Now the question wasn't if Maes' head would pop from glee, Roy reflected, hiding his face in his knees with a miserable groan- it was if it would pop before or after Roy wilted up in sheer agony and died on the spot.

Maes beamed even brighter. In his opinion, it was criminal, how proud of himself he was. He really looked like he was about to burst from stupid joy. "Oh, hold your horses there, Mustang- don't get so mad! Come on, you know I can't help myself."

Roy groaned again.

"Yeah," he grumbled sulkily, sinking back down until the blankets had obscured everything but his eyes. Even that was an exertion of self control; what he really wanted to do was just wilt down until even his head was hidden, and never come out again. "M-Mustang. Horses. Har de har. Never h-heard that one before. Stop, please. I'm dying over here. No, r-really. I'm dying."

Maes gave him another long look, one that seemed to suggest he wanted to torment him some more- but then, finally, his friend relaxed back into the couch, smug look softening into a calmer smile. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. If only because I'm too tired to be smart much longer. Like we said... truce."

Roy sighed loudly in mock relief, curling back tighter into his blankets, and bit back the retort that not a single one of those pathetic excuses for jokes had qualified as smart. He let his eyes droop half shut, head leaning against a nearby pillow. Maes was too tired to make puns, and he was too tired to process them. In his book, that counted as a win, and he wasn't going to push it. At the moment, all he really wanted was to take a nap, and he could tell his friend felt the same way. They were both exhausted and battered, and still reveling in the realization that this had been a very, very stupid idea.

Yeah... alchemic showdowns with his best friend and rival alchemist, when both of their specialities were lethal. Beforehand, Roy really had thought it was a great idea.

More evidence to Riza's assertion that he really should run his plans by her first, before he ended up blowing the whole world up in something he'd sworn was a good idea at the time.

"You know, Roy," Maes started, another trace of a tired grin on his face, and Roy cracked his eyes open just enough to watch him. It was just a normal grin, not a dangerous one that suggested more puns were on the way, but suspicion still crawled up his spine again- or was that another shiver? "Just because I'm undeniably cooler than you doesn't mean you've got no ground to stand on. Come on, Mr. Fire Alchemist. There's a whole world of pun-related humor out there for you about you being too hot to handle, if you'd just deign yourself to use it."

"I don't think you quite understand how physically painful it is for me to h-hear those shameful excuses you think p-pass for humor, Maes."

"All right, all right, I'm stopping," the man laughed. "I still can't believe this whole mess happened just because you can't stand puns, though."

"Once again, I don't think y-you quite understand h-how deep my hatred runs for those pathetic stand-ins for w-wit you call puns." He paused, tilting his head to the side to try and dislodge some of the wet hair still sticking to the back of his neck. Another shiver ran down his spine, and he sank back into his blankets again, swallowing a cough. He swore he could feel the beginnings of illness settling in his chest and throat, even though Maes would just laugh and call him paranoid for it."Besides," he went on reluctantly, "it w-wasn't entirely because of that. I w-wanted to prove I was the better alchemist... or at least had a b-better speciality than you."

"Which is why you failed, my friend. Because nothing, and most certainly not fire, is cooler than ice."

Roy groaned for the second time, burying his head against his knees just so he wouldn't have to see the tired but self-satisfied grin he knew would've stretched across his friend's face at the comment.

"S-sorry about your glasses," he mumbled at last, the words coming out half muffled into the blankets. "I was aiming for your eyebrows, actually. B-but, you were running at the time." He'd known then it was probably not the best of ideas, but he'd made sure the flames weren't hot enough to hurt his eyes. Alchemic standoff to an inch from death or not, he hadn't been about to risk actually hurting his friend. Just hopefully embarrass him, and make him look a little ridiculous."...Was also aiming to singe your gloves, t-too... not your hands."

"Meh," Maes said, shrugging carelessly. He didn't look like he even minded not being able to see him as much more than a big, blankety blur. "I'll live. I'll get Gracia to help me put in my contacts later... in the meantime, you'll just do my paperwork for me, right?" He smiled faintly, though with no real bite behind it, and he knew his friend didn't really mind.

Shivering again, Roy watched as Maes squinted awkwardly downwards, green eyes still unfocused, and grimaced as he painstakingly drew his array in the condensation in one of his bowls; a rapid burst of blue light later, the melted ice within had almost entirely re-solidified into a soft, icy slush. With a satisfied sigh, his friend leaned his head back, letting his eyes fall shut as his entire upper body relaxed with the return of the numbing cold to his burns. Roy felt himself relax a little, too, a small smile tugging at his lips. Maes, after several moments, tilted his head a little, enough so that he could make another attempt at meeting Roy's eyes. "Same apologies to you, though. I... probably should've thought a little, before I buried you in snow."

"You think?" he murmured, raising an amused eyebrow.

Maes shrugged innocently. "You have to admit, it was a hell of a lot of fun for me to do, and you looked hilarious. Regardless, I swear if you actually end up getting sick, you can sulk and sneeze all you like from my guest bedroom, and I'll only complain a little."

Roy laughed again, burying himself back in the warm folds. "How t-touching."

It was quiet for a few moments, and Roy curled himself even tighter into the corner of the couch, still reveling in the borrowed blankets. For a second, he was tempted to simply never move again. Ignoring the soft blankets slowly growing damper and damper the long they remained wrapped around him, and that this was becoming less and less appealing the longer he sat here and just dripped and soaked the only source of warmth he had. He knew he should unravel himself, hide in a towel instead, that in the long run, it would be better- but he was just so cold. He was not exposing his skin to air right now, come hell or high water.

Another set of shivers rolled down his spine, and he sighed, glaring at the darkening spots of dampness gathering in the the cloth squeezed around his bare toes. He was so fed up with being wet and cold. Snow was stupid. Ice was stupid. Water was stupid. There was no reason for the cold and the wet to ever exist, and when he became Fuhrer, the first thing he was going to do was outlaw winter. Period. No more winter, or irritating ice alchemists and their stupid pun, or the cold for Amestris.

Given the way he felt now, though, Roy was pretty sure he was never going to feel warm again.

"Alchemists!" Gracia called distantly, and they both looked up at the sound, watching for her to return back to the sitting room, dusting her hands off on her skirt. She looked much more agreeable than she had before, and actually graced them both with a smile as she pointed a thumb over her shoulder. "Dinner's ready. You two think you can crawl back over there with me, or should I bring it out here?"

Well, Roy may have wanted to exist as nothing but the contents of a blanket and pajama sandwich, but he was nothing if not a gentleman. He'd eat at the table, shivering like a civilized person, no matter how attractive his blanket nest and the idea of being spoonfed remained. He started the arduous process of squirming upright, struggling to hang on to his blankets as much as possible while Maes just nodded, tentatively sitting up himself and lifting his hands out of the bowls of ice water. "We'll come to you," he promised, wincing with every move, and Gracia smiled again.

"Men," she chided warmly, shaking her head at the both of them. "I hope you've learned your lesson about fighting each other now. The collateral damage is always catastrophic, and you always hurt each other way more than intended. Oh- Maes, you're dripping everywhere..."

His friend smiled weakly, still holding up his burned, wet hands at awkward angles. "I know, I'm sorry. I'll clean it later, I promise... hey, I'm back to Maes again! Instead of Glacier!" He turned a hopeful smile back on her, unfocused eyes bright. "Does that mean I'm forgiven?"

Roy rolled his eyes, smirking as Gracia softened again, the stern frown from before all but banished. "I think you two have put yourselves through enough punishment, this time," she said gently, looking between the both of them and their sorry states with another smile. "Don't push it, though."

Maes gave a whoop of relief- Roy rolled his eyes yet again- and they both watched as Gracia left again, allowing the two alchemists to their own devices to try and maneuver their way to food. Maes, for one, looked extremely uncomfortably, holding his reddened, shaking hands out in the air, but Roy was a bit more concerned with himself at the moment. Maes had, quite simply, got what he was asking for, in challenging a fire alchemist... he, however, had surely not deserved this. Nothing could be worth the face of being buried up to his neck in snow. This was miserable.

"Ahhhh," he moaned aloud, or perhaps just whined it, jerking his legs and hips again to get himself and his bundle of blankets off the couch. It was miserable immediately. His poor bare feet hit the cold floor, his face could suddenly no longer hide in the covers, and he went from shivering to freezing in one pathetic instant. "Ahhh," he moaned again, huddling up on the spot. He hunched his shoulders and hugged himself, trying to hide his pout into the blankets. Cold. Not fair. Not okay. Cold...

Maes blew out a loud, exasperated breath, but he sounded amused again, not annoyed. "You look pathetic enough to make a puppy cry, Roy, jeez. Just- come here, would you. You're still shivering, for god's sake." And then, without giving him room to consider the request himself, the man just crossed the room to pull him close to his side in an around-the-shoulders sort of hug. Normally, Roy would've probably shrugged him off- Maes might not have understood the concept of personal space being a thing that some people rather liked, but he certainly did- but, a big thing of radiating warmth next to him? Who was he to say no?

With an exhausted sigh, Roy just gave in and allowed himself to be hugged, hiding his sulky face in favor of pressing himself a step closer to the heat. He was still freezing, but now, he had a way to get warm besides from just burrowing into the blankets- he didn't care how pathetic he looked. He huddled under Maes' arms, leaning against his side, and for the first time in hours, really felt himself start to relax. "Thanks," he mumbled quietly, and Maes just smiled, ruffling his hair in return.

As they started forward again, moving in an odd, shuffling little march towards the kitchen, Roy sent an uncertain look back in his friend's direction. Still red-faced, and while his arm was tight around his shoulders, his hand hung loosely, blistered fingers still twitching uncomfortably. And even though it was hidden under his sleeve, Roy knew Maes' shoulder was burned a little, too, and that he had to be stretching the wound like sighed. "Idiot," he murmured, the word again muffled into his blankets, and reluctantly maneuvered his hand around to fish for the glove stuck in his pocket. It took some doing, but he finally managed to get it on. Closing his eyes, Roy focused on his friend's body for a moment, tracing the paths of oxygen with his mind, then carefully activated the transmutation.

It took his friend several moments to realize what was going on, but at last Maes came to an abrupt halt, moaning in relief even louder than Roy had. It wasn't until his tense, clenched jawline finally eased and the tight lines around his eyes melted away that he realized the pain he'd probably been in until now, his friend tilting his head back with an exhausted cry of relief, and Roy winced guiltily. Biting his lip, he glanced away, shuffling his feet and shifting sheepishly. "It'll wear off in a couple minutes, but- that should help. Most of the pain is from overwhelmed thermal receptors, so if I just divert oxygen and blood flow away, then it should really-"

"I could kiss you right now, Roy," Maes moaned, waving his red, now numb, and blessedly pain-free hands in the air. He didn't seem like he even cared that Roy could've done something for the pain an hour ago, if he'd just not been an idiot and thought about it. "Thank you."

Roy flushed under his blankets, hiding away his embarrassment in another scowl. "Or you could just return the favor and dry me off. I suppose I'm partial to either one, though..."

"What about both?" he teased, but, thankfully, did not waste any more time than that. A second later, and Roy felt all the moisture he'd dripped onto his blankets seeping out and evaporating, leaving him warm again and dry just like that.

"Knew there was a reason I was friends with you," he sighed, relaxing fully and finally, finally warm again. Maes just laughed, still waving one reddened hand about, the other remained clutched around his shoulders.

"Back at you, buddy."