A/N: This one is longer 'cause I lifted it out of a scrapped fic that I hate. It was about Hughes grappling with his feelings for Roy, and then Roy goes off to Ishbal. It really sucked. But this part was ok.
Avenue
Young Hughes and Mustang waited outside the drug store, Havoc having promised to be quick. They stood against the wall of the shop in the fading afternoon light, watching people pass by in the street.
"Remember the first time we went out in our uniforms?" Hughes asked, sticking his hands in his pockets. "We thought we were big shots then, but no one even noticed us as anything special. That took us down a notch, didn't it?" He laughed, knowing it hadn't been that long ago.
"When you wear this uniform in Central, it's almost as if you blend in." Mustang commented, nodding politely at an elderly couple strolling by. "The people in this town are too used to seeing soldiers out on the streets."
Hughes watched the exchange with amusement, leaning back into the wall. "We thought we'd earned instant respect, but really all we got was responsibility. An officer must act as an officer at all times, must represent his country with pride, must blah blah blah. I was expecting notoriety as a soldier, not work. Ahh!" he lamented, "How hard it is to be young and idealistic!"
"I'd say enjoy being that way while it lasts. Although I'd hate to see you ever become bitter and jaded like some of our superiors." Mustang grimaced at the thought of some in particular.
"I'm deciding to take that as a compliment," Hughes said. "But alright, if I ever turn into some cynical, militaristic-minded bastard of a colonel, you come and blaze me until I get my head straight."
"I'm counting on you to knock me around if I ever do something stupid, then."
"Deal," Hughes grinned evilly, pulling his hands out of his pockets to crack his knuckles.
Mustang just eyed him coolly. "You'd better not be thinking of trying anything now," he said, "because I think we both know how that would end."
"Ha! You wouldn't use your fancy alchemy on me! In a plain and simple brawl I'd lay you out in minutes." He gave Mustang's smaller frame a once-over, hoping it looked like a challenge with nothing else implied.
The alchemist's eyes flared competitively. "I think you underestimate me, Hughes." His voice was calm and low, and there was a slight raise in the corner of his mouth to match the gleam in his eye.
Hughes didn't know whether his underestimation referred to Mustang's ability to use alchemy on him, or his ability to fight without it. He'd never seen his friend in an actual fist fight, but he did have the training and a decent build, so maybe he could handle himself. On the other hand, he didn't really want to find out first hand the extent of Mustang's skill with flame, either. Grinning, he stepped out from the wall, anyway.
"There's one thing I must remind you of, though," he said, rolling his shoulders.
"Oh? What's that?" Mustang followed him out onto the broad sidewalk.
"Fighting in the streets is not allowed!" Hughes struck an absurd pose, planting a fist on his hip and waving a scolding finger at Mustang.
He watched gleefully as Mustang's eyes widened in surprise. Then, to his own surprise, Mustang collapsed against the wall, holding his sides with laughter. That was good, he didn't laugh enough to be healthy. Hughes decided he'd definitely be doing more unexpected things in the future.
It was then that Havoc came out of the store with a fresh cigarette already out of the box. "Hey, Roy, could I have a li—" He stopped in shock when he finally saw what was going on.
"What did you do to him?" he asked incredulously.
Hughes shrugged innocently, trying to keep his proud smile to a minimum. He loved that rare open look Mustang had when he laughed, and felt a little light-headed when that look was directed at him. And he couldn't help but be proud of himself: he was the only one who could make Roy Mustang laugh.
