Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Around him swirled a myriad of colours. Some were bright, some were dark, and some were muted in their vibrancy. There were even some colours he recognized in the great swirling about him, some he did not know their names, and he decided the colours were very pretty, even the muted ones.
From where had the colours come? The last thing Edward remembered was talking to Roy about something or another. What had they discussed? Was it about the colours he now saw?
As he wondered about the colours and his conversation with Roy, Edward began to notice he felt like he was . . . floating. He was floating on a cloud or something similar. Or was it nothing at all? He tried to look around, but he saw only the colours. They were tendrils of smoke, reaching for him, calling to him, and begging him to join them.
Panic started to set into every fiber of his being, and the air around him started to strangle him. No longer did the colours look pretty and vibrant. They were death coming for him, and he was drowning in open air, much like a fish when it was tossed ashore.
He did not want to die! He wanted to scream out to the colours those words, but nothing formed. There was much left to be done with his life. He needed to restore his brother! He wanted to see Alphonse grow up and become strong, like Edward knew he was capable of doing. He could not die, not now!
A burst of air enveloped Edward, pain blossomed on the right side of his face, and he noticed the colours around him dissipating slowly. Roy's blurry face appeared before his as Edward opened his eyes. When had he closed them? Edward could not recall falling asleep yet it seemed that he had done so. If anything, he felt more weary instead of refreshed. Was that not the object of sleep? To awake refreshed and ready to start a new day?
As consciousness reclaimed Edward, he noticed he was alone with Roy. His entire body ached, and they were quite nude. The scents of sex, sweat, and pheromones were heavy in the air surrounding him. Roy stared at him, concerned. One hand touched Edward's cheek, caressing it and easing the very real pain there.
For a moment, Edward could not move. He did not dare move. The vision of the colours and the sensation of drowning in open air were all too vivid in his memory. Of course, other memories were there as well, the feel of Roy's lips on his own and the exquisite pleasure he had felt as Roy demonstrated why the ladies liked him so well. He still did not recall falling asleep, and that was perhaps what disturbed Edward the most. Had Roy slipped him something afterwards? Anything was possible, it seemed, and he glanced out the window at the night sky.
Tomorrow, they would carry on as if nothing had ever happened between them. They had their lives to carry on with, loved ones to protect, and their missions to see through. It would be their secret, this tryst, and the ones that would follow.
Edward just hoped he was not in over his head. His brother was counting on him to set things to right, after all.