He had watched time pass and people change. As winter became spring, he had watched his friends and co-workers fall in love. And as spring became summer, he had seen them break up, hurt and cry. And when summer became autumn, he had seen them get back on their feet again, laughing and flirting. And when autumn became winter, he would see them through the window, laughing and having fun during Christmas time.
He would be the one offering to stay at work late on Christmas Eve, and he would be the one walking home alone, to an empty house. He would be the one to pass houses with bright lights, laughter and joy. The happiness would, though, just make him sadder. He would be the one, feeling lonely and go to bed at once he locked the door behind himself. Though, he would not sleep well. His tears would stream and he would, eventually, get up to stare out of the window. He would watch the stars and snow, and he would whisper to himself. Whisper words that no-one would hear.
Because he would be all alone, once again.
The phone rang and Roy Mustang groaned with irritation. It was December the 24th, the time was three in the afternoon and he was still at work. He would be late this Christmas, seeing that he had loads of paperwork to do.
"This is Colonel Roy Mustang speaking," he said to the phone. "Mhm. Yes, that is right. Mm, yeah. No, yes. OK. Yes, I do understand. All right. Thank you, sir. Bye."
Another call from the Führer. There were more work for him, if he wanted to. If he wanted to, he could be staying until midnight. The thought was nice, but no. He was already tired, and going home to a nice and warm bed was a tempting thought. But seeing as the walk home would ruin the thought completely and making him wish he was back at the office, working, he would stay just a bit longer.
The pen scratched on the many papers. He was, for once, working fast. He did even read trough some of the papers before he signed it. It was not as he needed to, he had to sign them anyway, but he just wanted to know what he was signing on. It was usually nothing big, just reports from his team or their wages. But when there were papers that he had not seen before, sent from the Führer, he would read trough them to make sure that he was not signing anything that would leave him guilty for something. He would rather take the consequences of not signing.
A knock on the door before steps on the floor. He lifted his gaze to meet hazel eyes. When he was sitting like this, he was about at the height of the younger male standing by his door.
"Is there anything you want from me, Fullmetal?" he said, tilting his head just slightly. As his eyes were examining the person in front of himself, he could not help it but think that the oldest Elric-brother did not look like a 17-year-old-boy at all. Actually, it was hard for Roy to imagine Edward as anything but what he had been the first time they had met.
"Yes, Mustang. I was just dropping by to leave you my report and to tell you that I am leaving for the day. I have to get ready for Christmas, you know," the middle-dark voice said. Roy nodded once, and Edward walked to the desk on the other side of the room. A file marked "Another God-Damned fake Philosopher Stone" moved from Edwards pale hands to the dark wood of Roy Mustangs desk.
"There you go. Merry Christmas, sir."
"Thank you, Fullmetal. Merry Christmas."
It was snowing outside. Huge snowflakes were falling from the grey sky, making it hard to see anything. To top it of, the wind whipped the poor faces of whoever who may walk outside. The ground was covered in ice and snow, and it was with heavy steps Roy Mustang made his way home.
He was not happy.
Edward stared out of the window. The snow had stopped falling and the sky was black and covered with stars and a bright full-moon. He could feel the low temperature trough the window, but the fire warmed the room. In fact, it lit up the room and he did not need any other lights.
Downstairs, he could hear the others, joking, laughing and having loads of fun. He could hear glasses hitting each others, bottles be emptied and the loud and joyful song of a drunk man. For his sake, he´d had just enough. A, no, two glasses of wine when they ate and he would be pleased for that side of the year. He did not like to drink, even though his age said that he could. But the tasty wine made its way to his glass once in a while. And he was OK with that.
His mind drifted away. A few snowflakes fell from trees far away and twirled around with the wind, and his eyes followed them on their long journey.
"Roy..." he whispered. And then he opened his eyes wide and bit his lip. Did he just say that? Did he just whisper the name of his boss, the colonel? He could barely believe it himself. But harder to believe, he said it once again. And again.
"Roy... Mustang...".
He could feel tears on his check. Again, he sat in the windowsill, staring at the dark night sky, crying in silence. His words were locked inside of his mind, and when he tried to tell himself, when he tried to speak, a weak whimper were the only sound he could make. The only sound his voice were able to do without sobbing.
The moon was red. Bright, she was, reflecting in the ocean far away. Soon, she would disappear. Along with all the stars, leaving him to wait in those dark hours before the sun would set and a new day arrive. He hated the winter.
Deep down in his consciousness, he could hear a sound. A sound he had not heard as long as he could remember, though he would recognise it at once. It was a light sound, bright and happy. But he refused it. His mind blocked it out, did not want to hear. Maybe they would just think he was not at home. Or think he was asleep.
The doorbell rang again. It moved to him, swirled around him and dragged him out of the unconsciousness he liked so much. It nagged at him, begged him to open his door. To see whom might be waiting outside. Outside in the cold. It was nothing but mean not to open.
"What do you w... Edward?"
"No, I am Santa. Or, maybe you rather want me to be Easter Bunny." Edward said, watching the older man. When the older did nothing, Ed sighed. "Just let me in, goddamnit."
Obeying without a thought, Roy moved to the side and let the young Elric enter his house. Lost in surprise, he did not manage to close the door. Not until Ed snapped in front of his face. But then, the door was already closed.
"Earth to R.. Mustang." Ed said. "What´s up?" Roy just pulled his shoulders and walked to the living room. He needed a drink. Something that would wake up his mind a bit.
"Drinking, are we?" Edward said when Mustang had emptied his glass. He was standing in the door, watching as the liquid disappeared down his troth. Roy nodded, once. Then, when Ed did nothing, asked if Ed wanted some. Ed did not.
"Make.. yourself at home," the colonel mumbled. Ed nodded and walked to a sofa. Sat down and sighed. Roy walked over to the window, sipping at his glass and staring at the snow-covered world. In silence, he asked himself questions of how and why Edward was here. He had, honestly, no idea.
"Mustang... Why won´t you sit down next to me?" Ed asked, unusually soft for being him. Maybe Christmas had changed him. Maybe Ed was joking with him, maybe this was a prank. He could not know, and he would find out, probably the hardest way.
As he sat down, he noticed that he had emptied his glass. With a sigh, he put it down on the table and then, he closed his eyes. His mind was fuzzy, and he felt tired. Like he could go to bed and fall asleep without any problem. Than would be nice, he thought.
"Sir?" Ed said softly, and Roy opened his eyes. He met the golden gaze that belonged to the younger, and nodded once.
"Close your eyes."
"But, why, Edward?"
"Just do it, OK?"
With a nod, Mustang closed his eyes once more. He could feel the other moving, and then he could feel extra weight added on his lap. His eyes fluttered, but before he could open them, Ed breathed in his ear.
"Don´t open them until I say you may," he said, so soft that it sent chills down Mustangs spine. Roy nodded once, barely moving his head as he did.
A cold hand rested on Roy´s shoulder, and made him remember that he was not wearing a shirt. The other hand, the warm hand of Ed, stroke his check, slowly, like a mother comforting her child. Roy´s face flushed, but it might as well be the alcohol. He could not say with a hand on his heart that the drink he just had was his first that night.
He felt warm breath on his face, making his face flush even more. The breathing was shaky, like Ed was nervous and tried to calm himself down.
"Edward, is th-" Roy´s question was cut of by soft lips touching his. He did not know how to react, how to respond. His mind was filled with question, but a blanket lay on top of them, and made him unable to ask, unable to move.
When the blanket finally disappeared, Ed moved his lips away from Roy´s, and all the way over to his ear. Whispering soft words, Edward made this night to one of the best Roy ever had.
"Merry Christmas."