"You really shouldn't be drinking at a time like this," Havoc said, plonking down next to him and plucking the shotglass out of his droopy hand.

Roy shot a slightly fuzzy glare over at his subordinate. His eternally cheerful subordinate. "Give that back," he demanded thickly.

Havoc sniffed the glass, pulled a face, downed the contents, and gagged. "Holy hell this is nasty!"

"I didn't ask you to drink it," he replied grumpily. M'mm... he's warm and cheerful, I wonder if he'd let me snuggle–

"Figured it was the best way to keep you from getting even more hammered than you already are."

"Watch yourself, Lieutenant."

"It's the Elric brothers, isn't it."

He glared over at the happy-go-lucky man. "You're on thin ice, Lieutenant."

Havoc flicked the rim of the glass with a fingernail. "Mustang, at least be kind enough to give us some credit, here. We may not be tactical geniuses like you, but we sure as hell have eyes in our heads. Every time Fullmetal's reports come in, you leave early and come in late the next day. We're all getting worried about you."

"I can take care of myself, Lieutenant."

"Jean. Right here, right now, we're civilians. My name's Jean."

Roy slid a glance sideways. The familiar goody grin had been replaced with a disturbingly serious and grim expression. It made his stomach roll, or maybe that was just the alcohol. "Roy," he managed indistinctly.

Jean nodded. "Good. Now, do you mind telling me why you're sitting here, getting thoroughly smashed?"

"I'm worried about Fullmetal and his brother. They're getting themselves deeper and deeper into trouble and I have no idea how to fish them out of it."

"Don't worry. They'll manage to come out of this mess smelling like roses. They're good at doing that."

"I know they are; that's why I'm not getting drunk every single night. But their reports are... unsettling, at best."

"Yeah, I know." Jean rose, still looking unnaturally serious. "Come on, I have a car round front. We need to get you home."

"Jean?"

"Yeah?"

"Why do you care so much?"

The man's long mouth cracked into a slightly bitter grin. "Why do you care, h'm?"

He blinked. "Why –?" A rather silly smile appeared on his face. "Because those two boys are the closest things I have to little brothers. Why do you care?"

Jean shrugged, gathering up Roy's discarded coat. "I told you that I'd follow you anywhere. Let's just call it my own particular brand of bull-headed loyalty."

The laconic tone and disparaging words snapped him back to some semblance of reality. "That was cruel, Jean."

"I know."

That completely rid him of the alcohol-induced haze. Who'd have thought that the Joker in the deck would be so miserable. "Why?"

Jean shrugged. "What's the use of praising something that isn't there?"

"You're a remarkably good actor, but a remarkably bad liar."

"Beg pardon?"

"You really had me fooled, Jean. I really thought that you were a goofball. You have me convinced that you'd be okay."

Startled blue eyes gazed dumbly at him.

He slipped an arm around the other's waist. "Jean, I'm glad you're here. It makes life so much more bearable. Cheer up, please."

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Roy makes such a graceful drunk. Sorry if it isn't overtly shounen-ai. Requested by Reka and sketchyheart.

It's Jean-angst! I was tired of people writing him like some sort of eternally-cheerful character. He's a soldier, people. He's just as traumatized as Roy, but probably just better at hiding it. No one gets out of a war without scars. It's just that a lot of them aren't visible.