A/N: Guess who's baaack? Hello, FFn! My last story got deleted in a fit of rage - (Don't blame me, I can't help myself sometimes) - and I present you this to take its' place. Please excuse any grammatical problems, as my Beta is perpetually grounded and unable to do her job. -Cough, cough- Anywho! I'd like some thoughts on this - it seems a little cliche to me, and I'm the one who wrote it. xD Either way, it took me a while (Which is sad, considering the length). Please enjoy!~

Warnings: Some language, and boys kissing.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, sadly.

It had been raining for what seemed like weeks. Ed didn't particularly like the rain, but he had to admit that it had guts. People yelled and cursed and spit and spat at the rain to stop, but it didn't. In that respect, he liked the rain. It just did its own thing, and fuck everybody else. Ed figured that was a good way to live, so even if he didn't particularly like the rain, he did respect it. From his place on the roof of Central Command, he could watch the rain pour in droves, sluicing off of roofs and plastering his bangs to his forehead.

With darkness setting in, it was hardly possible to see details, but Ed imagined the dark blobs that were cars held members of the command he served under, all eager to get home and spend the weekend forgetting about work. He could join them. He could go home, and Al would be there. In the flesh and happier than he had been in years, his little brother would be able to take his mind off of the course it was determined to chart. Clenching his Automail fist in frustration, Ed leaned against the roof's edge and frowned, brow pulling together and eyes scrunched against the onslaught of water.

Getting Al's body back had been a project years in the works, and the actual accomplishing of the goal had left Ed strangely empty. It wasn't surprising; most of his life had been consumed by the quest, but now, there was nothing. Nothing to fight for - everything had turned strangely stagnant. Ed snorted, glancing toward the dark night sky. The rain was letting up slowly, and when it stopped he knew he's be freezing cold, but for now, it was alright.

The loss of his goal had changed everything. Ed had never thought this would be a problem. He had assumed, perhaps foolishly, that when Al got his body back, they would continue on like always; forever a team, always together. But that wasn't necessarily true. Al was consumed with college, and seemed to attract the love and attention of every living creature he came in contact with. But that was okay - Al was happy, and that was all Ed really needed to know to be content, even if it left him feeling strangely empty. It was a feeling Ed was familiar with, though it had been years since he had felt so despondent.

The door to the roof clicked open, and in the back of his mind, Ed noted that the rain must have really let up if he could hear such a quiet noise. He didn't bother turning to see who was there, but he needn't have bothered, because less than a second later, the questioning voice of Mustang murmuring 'Fullmetal…?' reached his ears.

With a sigh, Ed pushed himself off of the side of the building, turning to see the man in question. Mustang stood in the doorway of the roof, all broad shoulders and dark eyes, hair quickly becoming slick with rain water and piercing gaze focused solely on Ed. Normally, the man's expressions were about as easy to read as Xingese scrolls on Alkahestry that Al agonized over in his free time. Now, however, Ed could clearly see worry reflected in black irises, and he allowed himself a moment of disbelief. Was he really so transparent that even Mustang could tell something was wrong?

'Mustang.' His voice curt - dismissive. Mustang didn't flinch, or take the hint and leave, like most would have. Instead, he closed the door to the roof and stepped closer. He moved slowly, like Ed was a frightened animal.

'Edward, what are you doing out here? It's late. I'm sure Alphonse is wondering where you are.' The use of his name caught Ed off guard - they never did that. Mustang was always just that - Mustang, the bastard Colonel, untouchable and perfect behind his desk. Well, Ed amended in his head, not Colonel anymore. Mustang was a General now.

'None of your business.' Ed kept his voice curt, hoping that the idiot would get the message and leave.

'On the contrary, it is my business.' The reply was quiet, and Ed glanced up at Mustang again, a little startled at his sudden proximity. The man was glaring down at Ed, eyes fierce with some emotion that Ed couldn't name.

'I'll ask again. What are you doing, Edward?' Ed thought about not answering. He never gave in to Mustang, on principle. But the look on his face was a good incentive to at least consider it.

'Thinking. Could you please move back?'

The man looked as if he didn't believe him, and made no move to back away. Damn it, he had even said "please".

'About what?'

What was with Mustang today? He was behaving in a way so out-of-character that Ed was tempted to check for a fever.

'Does it matter?' He snarled instead, stepping back and feeling the ledge of the roof against his back. 'Just drop it, Mustang.' The man in question stepped forward, eyes blazing.

'Of course it matters, Ed! Don't you get it, you insufferable brat?' He was too close, and there was no where to go - and why was Mustang grabbing his wrists? What did the prick think he was doing?

'Let me go, Mustang!' Ed's voice was a higher octave that he was used to hearing, and he felt his face turning red. Whether that was because of Mustang's proximity or embarrassment, he decided not to analyze it too much, and instead cursed his fair coloring for making him so susceptible to blushing.

Mustang's face was dangerously close now, and when he spoke, Ed could almost feel his lips moving against his own.

'That's just the problem. I can't.'

And suddenly something was happening to his mouth that was by equal turns wonderful and strange, and Mustang was so close he could see the veins threading over his pale eyelids. For a few moments, Ed forgot how to move. His limbs were frozen in place, his hands clutching desperately at the roof's edge.

As soon as it had started, it ended, and Ed was pulled away from the roof's edge. Mustang was staring down at him, hands on Ed's forearms and an unreadable expression on his face.

It was as if his body had decided to start working again, and Ed shook Mustang off, hand flying to his mouth.

'You - I - What - ?' He stuttered out, but instead of giving the man a chance to reply, he took off like a shot, rocketing towards the roof's door. Ed was vaguely aware of Mustang yelling his name, but confusion kept him from stopping and yelling at the bastard.

Instead, he ran all the way home, head full of whirling thoughts, and confusion settling in his bones.