Ed looked around the dimly lit sanctuary, a subdued feeling slowly enclosing him. He supposed that, under different circumstances, it would be beautiful. As it was, it just made him feel even more lonely than ever. He played the Christmas hymns in a daze, his flute feeling unusually heavy. The choir standing momentarily distracted him until his eyes landed on the empty chair in the bass section only four chairs away. His heart sank even further in sadness. The choir sounded as beautiful as always, but the missing bass made him want to cry.

I wish you were here. It's Christmas. You should be here.

Ed eventually managed to drag his thoughts to the service, allowing the pastor's voice to wash over him in a soothingly quiet voice. That is, until the lights were completely put out and the candles lit.

Ed stared into the small flame of the candle, absently playing with it. His mind wandered to the one person he knew that could manipulate and control that flame just as his hand wandered over the fire, making it flicker and wave. He sighed, causing the captivating flame to sputter, and reluctantly blew out the candle to play the final hymn. At the end, Ed didn't linger. He packed up his flute and left, thoroughly depressed.

XXXXXXXXXX

Ed slowly closed the front door and locked it. He pulled off his coat, gloves, scarf, and hat with a sigh, resigning himself to Christmas alone. With Al in Risembool visiting Winry and Roy away on some mission in Drachma, Ed was wishing he'd gone with Al instead of insisting on having his first Christmas with Roy alone.

It wasn't until he entered the kitchen that he noticed the smell.

Burning pine? The fireplace?

Ed hurried into the living room. The all too familiar smell got stronger.

Only Roy burns pine. Roy…? It's not possible. Roy's supposed to be in Drachma. There's no way he's home. Don't get your hopes up, Ed. Somebody probably broke into the house and found Roy's pine wood. And decided to burn some. Yeah. Right. Not.

Ed rounded the corner to the living room, a thousand thoughts flooding his mind at a hundred miles an hour. All thoughts ceased when the full living room came into view.

"R-Roy…?" Ed shook his head, not believing what he saw.

I'm hallucinating. I only think he's here because I miss him. I'm imagining Roy standing in front of me. I'm imagining the fire and the pine smell. None of this is possible.

Tears welled in Edward's eyes as he almost made himself believe he was hallucinating. Roy's face contorted to concern at once. He was at Ed's side in an instant.

"Edward, what's wrong?"

"Roy…," Ed choked, "h-how are you here? You're… s-supposed to be in Drachma. Please tell me… Tell me I'm not dreaming this."

Roy smiled softly and bent down until their lips met. Roy teased Ed's lips, slowly running his tongue around the outer edge of the blonde's lips, then gently pushing his way into his mouth and winding his tongue around Ed's in a gentle, passionate kiss. Ed moaned into Roy's mouth and pressed upwards to deepen the kiss, his eyes closed. As soon as he did, however, Roy pulled away.

"Roy," Ed whispered breathlessly, more tears streaking silently down his cheeks.

"I'm home," Roy assured quietly, his soft smile widening and crinkling the corners of his eyes. Ed jumped into Roy's arms and smothered him in wet kisses.

"Merry Christmas, Edward."

"It is now," Ed sighed as he allowed Roy set him down on the couch. He curled into the older man and stared happily into the fireplace, the warmth slowly drying his cheeks.

~Owari~

A/N: I realize this is the exact same story I had up before. I took it down to make one small change to it. This story is no longer for Keelian_brett12. It is up purely because I liked the way it was written. Yes, I also realize it is October when I make this change. Too bad. Suck it up and deal with it. I like to go back and re-read my stories occasionally, and I realized that it was still dedicated to a person I never really liked in the first place, so that has changed. Any and all reviews are welcome, but please try to make it more than, "This is great", "Keep writing. I really love this." I love the praise, but I also crave critiques, likes and dislikes, etc. I'll give two cookies to whoever actually follows this request. Much love, Kaleigh.