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Here I am again. I'm slowly translating chapters from my mother tongue, hoping the story will sound equally good. I know it's kind of simple-written but I'm actually proud of it, not because is something spectacular, it's just that back then it kept me really company during an awful period of my life.

I'm carefully re-reading everything, I don't like leaving mistakes behind, but if you spot them (because I'm getting almost blind about it), please don't hesitate and write me, thanks!

Enjoy.

04Only if

Hughes literally blabbers about his beautiful Glacier, waiting for him in Central City: according to the foul's words, she's waiting eagerly for him to come back.

It seems he can't stop desiring her, imagining their dates and their courtship, and it seems that everyone around the military camp has to know about it.

Whenever he writes back his letters he piffles aloud to everybody the words he's writing down on some wrinkled piece of paper. He'll be back – don't worry lovely daisy – he will surely be promoted then they will marry and start a family. And children, obviously, so many of them and written in a so full-of-particularities sick way that Roy can almost vomit at the solely thought.

Nonetheless, now that he's growing accustomed to the man's curious manners, he sees behind the shitty pantomime: Hughes likes to have the picture highly clear focused, he likes his love-life and long-terms projects to be neat and well-planned. Not in a control-freaked way, really, it's just that the guy is forthright and pristine from the inside to the outside, and hardly anything seems to reach and spoil this display of so-called perfection.

The real actual reason Roy's taken aback, though, is that the figures don't add up.

He lightly wonders, for example, what Hughes is thinking now, as he slowly approaches him near the bonfire, a starry warm sky above them and the cheerful glow of flames all around in the velvety dark.

The amazing glow of a smile flicks the man's feature, an expression that Roy never saw, and even if Hughes is chatting in the usual, superficial way, there's something teasing and playful in his tone, something that lingers silently in the air.

Something that definitely – oh, absolutely – has nothing to do with Glacier, her shining eyes and the tender child she could be giving birth to in a near future…

And that's because (Roy Mustang is not a dumb guy, no doubts) when Maes Hughes stops talking bullshit and clings in their precious, great idealistic issues, his eyes shine with the uncommon light of passion.

There's no real passion in Maes' letters. Those are only desiccated words, lovely to read but as useless as a promise to the wind.

Hughes' glance to Roy, on the contrary, reveals quite a different quality of interest.

Again, Roy Mustang is not oblivious enough to let shit like this going on unnoticed.

When he grabs almost absent-mindedly a harmful of Hughes' shoulder uniform, the other man startles a bit but doesn't move at all.

He pierces through Roy's dark eyes, the pupils almost completely dilated and the jumping orange of the fire on the skin, his manly jaw slightly unclenched.

Roy can't remember the last time he have held his breath so close to another human being.

The thought disconcerts him. He remains still, his mind completely blank, the sky above so immense and life ahead so important that their meanings slip away mercilessly.

Hughes body gets closer and adheres to Roy as his right arm collects the other's shoulders with protectiveness.

Their chapped lips brush at midair, touching breathlessly and exploring tentatively.

The touch is amazingly delicate.

Roy knows his face is burning and feels the clench of his stomach vibrating strongly when Maes's tries with a different approach, a bit more decisive.

Kisses , caresses, hugs, embraces…it's a world Roy didn't quite remember, something that quivers faintly in the back of his mind.

He has always reckoned a man should leave such weaknesses behind while going through a difficult path like the one he chose some time ago.

In fact, the way to the power for the greater good takes hardships and doesn't allow distractions.

But in this very moment, without restraining himself, Roy responds to Maes' kisses without thinking about it twice.

There's no shame and no fear.

When Hughes cuts off he stares back and hovers very close to Roy.

He's attractive, flushed and wordless.

He pokes Roy's forehead with his, closing his eyes, then he loosens his grip and starts rolling a cigarette.

They don't talk and the spirals of smoke disorderly pile up, getting lost in the black of night .

Roy knows, somewhere deep inside him, there's now an unbreakable bond between the two of them.

:::::::::::::::::::

The thing is very simple, too much, actually.

There had been two men in the sand, two friends, two brothers in arms, and there had been a slow, shamefully tender kiss.

It flares in Roy's memory like a sudden flash in the middle of a deserted darkness.

Nor that he cares that much, really, but Hughes doesn't even pretend that nothing has ever happened and this slightly confuses Roy.

He had the feel of Hughes' stare at his neck all the day and the man has been smiling shortly at him for no real reason, the almost non-perceivable formality of his previous behavior now completely gone.

During the meals he keeps fucking around with his presumed love letters and while the others laugh Roy…Roy sincerely doesn't know.

He guesses he doesn't really feel anything, but still something annoys him.

The person he knows, the one who had kissed him, and this idiot fooling around don't match at all.

It's almost painful.

The absurdity of the question is right here, Roy spots it clearly with his perfect rationality.

It seems that Glacier is part of a very distant universe, along with the dimwit version of Hughes, who fondly cultivates dreams of the perfect family.

In this sorrow-warped parallel universe, instead, there's another Maes Hughes, the one he truly met, the one he deeply bonded with.

And, Roy does not lie to himself, this last behaved himself in the spur of a moment.

However, he will not stand by him claiming the need of an explanation, of some complicated reason.

There are death and perdition all around them, this is not the time to judge, this is only the time to step aside.

So, this is the precise reason Roy stands up without finishing his meal and goes away, leaving behind his shoulders laughs and sex-hinted conversations between his comrades and Hughes, who's still busy showing Glacier's last picture.

Curiously enough, then, at nightfall Hughes stands near Roy's tent.

Roy looks at him and feels puzzled. He leads him away, in an uncertain stroll together.

- Don't you have anything to ask me?- Maes asks suddenly.

Roy furrows his brows and frowns

- Should I?-

Maes pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes:

- I kissed you, I don't know if you remember. If you just... -

- Very nice – Roy spits – I've had women but this has a different flavor…-

Maes shows a quizzical expression. A little hurt too.

- Roy ... -

- No, really, it's okay. I don't understand why you did it but it is the most pleasant thing ever happened to me in months. I don't see why I should complain or anything.-

Roy talks about himself but his voice seems far away.

- Wait…Wait, Roy…there's a reason, I…-

- You owe me nothing.- Roy says, his voice now cooler than ice.

There's something in the air his mind can't get a grip on, he can't figure out but it kind of stings.

- And then…the flesh is weak. Your lovely Glacier– yes, Roy is an intentional user of sarcasm – is far away, while I'm here... – his words trail off, leaving no doubts about their further meaning.

There is a pang of cynicism in Roy's tone, and maybe also heavy trails of bitterness, so Hughes looks completely floored.

He grabs Roy's arm and shakes it a bit.

- Quit it. This…this is not you. Let me explain. You're only upset…- his voice now wincing.

Roy smirks, almost scornful:

- Oh, and I imagine you can tell it precisely, better than me, even!-

- Well, I've been wondering about you for a while now and I think I can tell whether you're troubled or not!-

- Mpf! – Roy's teeth are gritting – Then try to explain me why I suddenly feel the urge to beat you to death!-

- C'mon, Roy, I thought we were on another level…I thought we had greater plans to discuss about! Can't you see it?! -

Roy anger boils at once as he actually doesn't know where he hid all of his irritation up until now.
This pretentious jerk is really daring to mess up with him?

- Who. The. Fuck. Do. You. Think. You. Are?!-

He steps ahead and his gloved hands suddenly grasps Maes' neck.

- I…I…could let you explode and burn in less than a second…- Roy's eyes are unfocused and his grip holds strong on Maes collar.

- R-Roy…I'm…I'm sorry…l-let…me…-

Roy throws away Maes and laugh a bit hysterically.

- Who would have thought…- he says, incredulously.

And then, his tones full of spite:

- Quit fuckin' around with me!- he barks.

Maes stands up and coughs but doesn't step back, stubbornly.

- You…you think you can fight me…- Roy says in a deadly whisper and tightens his hands, already prepared to fight.

Hughes' body, on the contrary, is relaxed and welcoming.

- You're wrong. I'm trying to help you.-

Roy shakes in fury, trapped and blocked layers of wrath releasing all at once.

- Roy…- he murmurs, reaching out his hand and touching his arm carelessly.

There have been deaths, there's been so much blood on his hands; there have been excruciating scenes, scorching explosions and deafening screams…now, what the hell, this clumsy idiot looks at him like he's still part of the real world.

How can he?

Roy freezes himself again, his eyes two livid slits.

- Roy… – Maes repeats – I…-

Roy jerks his head away.

- I don't need any of this. I don't need your help, your words…- your kisses…but he doesn't say it aloud, at least.

- You're arrogances never ceases to amaze me.- states Hughes, pinning back his glasses and grinning a bit sadly.

- I...I'm sorry about yesterday. I don't know why I did it…I…-

- Shut your useless mouth, you moronic imbecile.-

Roy breathes heavily, then chains his hands with Maes' ones and melts his confused wrath crushing with Hughes' warm lips.

It feels better at once.

There's no hesitance and there's a lot of heat diffusing between the two of them.

Roy doesn't care anymore of noble reasons and high-themes talks, he's mostly busied with chocking on Hughes' mouth.

He doesn't want to hear about stupid letters and about a non-existent future, about an ignominious mistakes he's allowing, about the uncharted feeling now spreading in his chest.

- This is insane. I don't even know what I can promise you…- then mutters Hughes, their face very close, their bodies attached in a tight hug.

- I don't want any promises. Soon you won't need me. And then we'll depart. - Roy utters in a flat tone, regaining his breath.

- I won't let you go.-

Hughes kisses him again, a bit impatiently.

- Shut up – replies Roy, nipping his wet lower lip – This is nonsense.-

He may sound self-confident and determined but deep inside he's wounded.

First of all, Maes has already chosen his way, or he would be all over him by now, which is not happening.

Then, as if it wasn't enough, he's very well-aware that he's already missing Maes for the time to come in which he'll eventually abandon him.

Nonetheless, they keep standing together, two solitary figures silhouetted in the night.

Still lonely but united.