Summary: Children are a blessing... unless it's 6 am. On a Sunday morning. And your kid somehow inherited the obnoxious personality of his namesake.

Author's note: The story is based on a comic by and dedicated to theysangastheyslew on tumblr (/post/127565302734/). If you love Maes, please, please check her art out! It's so adorable! Be sure to leave her a like or a reblog if you can because she really deserves it!

Maes's age: 3 years old

Please enjoy!

"Cold, cold, cold, cold!"

Roy Mustang shuddered slightly as he practically raced back into bed. It had probably not been the brightest idea to fetch a glass of water out of the kitchen in the middle of a cool spring night, dressed only in a pair of boxers and a thin shirt, his feet bare. But he hadn't particularly thought this through when he had awoken, throat parched and suppressing a cough to avoid wakening the slumbering woman next to him. All he had known was that he needed water, now, and that it was way easier to drink out of a glass instead of scooping it up with his hands from the tap in the master bathroom. He regretted this decision when he arrived at the base of the stairwell, when the cold had finally seeped though his drowsiness into his bones.

Now, back upstairs, he eased into the bed as quickly as he could and he welcomed the warmth that still lingered on his blanket. After a few minutes he turned to his left with a slight smile on his face as he dared to slip his arms around his wife again.

His wife!

His smile widened into a sleepy grin as he gently pulled her closer to him, her back now pressed into his chest as he softly, sleepily nuzzled into her hair that smelled like fresh cherries. Yes, Riza Hawkeye was his wife and he was allowed to snuggle up against her, to hold her soft body in his arms as he gently drifted back into sleep... and it felt like heaven.

Creak!

Roy's eyebrow twitched. Heaven usually didn't creak like that, did it? On the other hand, he might be slipping into some juicy dream that involved his wife and a squeaky bed...

Tap tap tap tap tap.

His eyebrow twitched again. He had had this kind of dream a million times, especially before his marriage (after all, it could not compare to the real experience), but it never seemed to involve the pitter-patter of tiny feet?!

"Dad?"

No. Oh no. It was shortly after 6 am and he was not ready for this! Not at this time of the day!

There was a sudden weight behind Roy's back now and he felt the toes of two feet drill into his back while two tiny hands grasped his shoulder. Right through the thin material of his sleeve, a tiny nose pressed into his shoulder and soft, steady breaths puffed against his shoulder blade.

"Daaad."

He wanted to groan, but he bit the inside of his cheek instead. If he could just pretend to be asleep for a while longer, the intruder might lose his interest - or he might actually fall asleep-

"Uhh!" Roy now groaned for real as the little intruder suddenly jumped on him, back first, and now lay sprawled all over his upper body, hands dangling down next to his head, his tummy partly exposed and hair flying around wildly. Roy's eyes jerked open by surprise and he knew he had lost the game right at this second.

"DAAAAAAAAAAD?"

The little boy wiggled around on Roy until he found a more comfortable position and took a deep breath - too deep for Roy's liking and he practically could feel the bags under his eyes darken by the second.

"DAD DAD DAD DAD DAD-"

At that moment, Roy was sure that Hughes was laughing at him, from wherever he might be right now. Laughing loudly, hilariously, deeply amused by the fact that the one person named after him somehow inherited his obnoxiousness and drove Roy into insanity in his stead.

Roy felt a soft pressure on his right hand. Without looking down (not that he would see much more than her back anyway), he knew exactly what it was. A thumb ran over his knuckles, before a sleepy voice reminded Roy of a rather obvious fact.

"Your son is awake."

"DAD DAD DAD DAD DAD DAD-"

This was one "Dad" too many!

Groaning loudly and grasping the blanket with the hand Riza had just recently let go of, Roy tugged the blanket over his and his wife's head - with a loud "AAGH!", his son got thrown off back onto the soft carpet next to the bed.

"Before sunrise, he's your son," Roy mumbled in response as he pulled on Riza's hand softly and her body rolled around to face him. He buried his head in her chest immediately and held on tight so she wouldn't be able to escape. This elicited a small chuckle from her and she affectionately drew her fingers through his dark, tangled locks. They both felt a tiny body scramble back onto the bed and on top of the blanket, scurrying around their legs, and Roy's head nuzzled deeper into Riza's skin in frustration.

"Just five more minutes, Maes. Please."