The bottle sat, still open and almost empty, on the table and had been open long enough for the hospital-like stench of alcohol to saturate the air. It looked so lonely, sparkling in the otherwise immaculate kitchen lit only by dull moonlight. Sighing, Ed took the time to cork the whisky and put it back in its respective cabinet. Roy would be drunk. Again. There was no glass in the sink, he checked. The house was dark all around, it made him wonder why he'd bothered to come in at all. But the glass door to the kitchen had been unlocked and he hadn't felt like going home. Ed only hoped that Roy had managed to drag his drunken ass into bed and all he would have to do for contact was crawl in too and they could wake up after the alcohol had worn off.
Edward stalked sleepily into the living room and almost fell to his death over two outstretched legs. "Might want to watch where you're going, Fullmetal." Said a sultry voice, decidedly steady, the way one can only accomplish when trying to fight the slathering drawl of drunkenness from his words. Roy lay sprawled in his favourite armchair, slouched over an empty glass with the top buttons of his ivory shirt undone and a sheen of sweat that Ed could smell from where he stood covered his usually pale skin now flushed cherry with alcohol. The blonde regained his balance and put his mismatched hands disapprovingly to his hips.
"You're drunk." He stated, his tone condescending to disgust.
"I believe that's for me to decide," the words slurred together just enough to draw attention to the way Colonel Mustang's lip trembled with the effort of forming proper syllables.
"No, it isn't," Ed scoffed, regretting opening the door in the first place. "You're totally shit-faced," and pathetic, and sad. Roy laughed a little too loudly for the moment and Edward took pity on him reaching over to take the empty tumbler from his slackened grip and set it aside. "Why have you been drinking so much lately?" He asked soft and chastising like he might speak to a small child, briskly buttoning Roy's shirt properly, more for something to do with his hands than out of any sense of propriety.
"It's falling apart, Edward. Everything's falling apart."
Edward spoke again as to a grade-schooler. "Well you're certainly not going to be able to put it back together in this condition." He gripped the chair arms to keep himself steady as he leaned in close to the older man's face fighting a grimace at the putrid stench. "And who's going to fix things if you fall apart, too?" A foul waft of quiet laughter brushed against his cheeks.
"You are?"
"Oh, I am?" Edward sighed again, helplessly and forced himself to straighten his back and cross his arms. "What are you sitting in the dark for anyway?"
"I think better w'thout lights." The colonel attempted to struggle from his slouch and ended further down in the seat instead.
"You probably think better when you're blood isn't ninety percent alcohol, too." Frustrated, Ed pushed a hand back through his bangs. "Would you like me to make coffee or would you rather just go to bed?" He seemed to think about it for a brief moment and shook his head as though rejecting both ideas but still said: "Bed."
"Well, there's no way I'm carrying your lazy ass upstairs, can you at least get up?" Despite his grumbling later and the way he rolled his eyes as Roy almost fell down on the first makeshift attempt to stand Edward slung a strong pale arm around his neck and shouldered as much of the older man's weight as he needed. Easily guiding him up the stairs and gently prodding around the proper corners, only growling slightly when Roy stumbles and crushed his flesh toes.
Edward sat him on the edge of the bed, making quick work of the buttons he'd just fastened and the other's beneath it, hoping that his lover was too drunk to become aroused, there was nothing sexy about his current state. He slipped the thin material from broad scarred shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, there was always morning. Deep blue pants follow but Ed left his shorts intact, usually Mustang slept in his birthday suit but Ed would rather not risk making him horny. "Get under the covers, bastard." He barked, his own exhaustion making him tense. Luckily, Roy listened and burrowed into the blankets, his eyes out of focus as he watches the boy strip as un-seductively as possible. Stretching languidly, Edward shuffled in close, blocking out the sweaty, unpleasantness to bury his nose in the crook of Roy's neck.
"Clingy, Fullmetal?"
"Shut up and go to sleep." The dark-haired man chuckled, low and slid arms around him, he was drunk, Ed knew, but it still felt good to be held, to be human.
-(0)-(0)-
Speculatively, Edward stirred sugar into his coffee listening to the soft 'tink' of Roy doing the same across the table from him. Bright sunlight reflected off the clean white tiled floor, making the air thick and muggy. He looked up slowly, "What did you mean when you said it was 'all falling apart'?" The words had lingered in his head through the night, even chewing at his subconscious.
"Oh," his military lover rested an elbow on the table top, laying his chin in an upturned palm. He smirked unconcernedly, "You should know better than to listen to the ramblings of a drunk."
"You didn't answer my question." Ed clicked his spoon against the edge of his steaming mug, watching drips as dark as Roy's eyes fall back into the base.
"Uh-huh," he answered, again noncommittal.
"I hope you aren't expecting me to come haul your drunken ass to bed every time you decide to drown yourself." Ed said finally, dropping the subject and impatiently blowing at his coffee.
"Don't worry, Ed. I'm a big boy now I can take care of myself." His commanding officer purred with just the right amount of mockery in it to be smug and annoying.
"Shut up." Ed growled before touching his lips to the rim of his cup, only to pull them immediately back; hot, much too hot. Roy laughed softly at him but quieted with an Elric-patented death glare though the amusement still lingered in his eyes. Dropping his cup back to the table Edward drummed his fingers, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. "I would you know." He started his voice low and pondering.
"Would what?" Crackling his neck the young man brought his gaze level with orbs of onyx and mused the comparison to his coffee once more.
"Put you back together if you fell apart."