Yuruginai Shinrai

He hadn't eaten properly in weeks. Hadn't eaten anything in days. He didn't care.

The closest he got to sleep was passing out from shear exhaustion. Again, he didn't care.

Havoc worried constantly over him. Feurry, Falman, and Broche incessantly invited him over to distractions and entertainment, giving him ways to find a partner in life. And once more, he didn't care.

Riza and the rest of Central kept their distance and their thoughts to themselves. Who would have guessed he didn't care about that either?

The mug of coffee he held lightly in his hands had grown cold and muggy as the day bore on. His desk lay littered with papers and reports that had been waiting for his attention for weeks, days, and hours. Riza had left for the day, not giving an excuse, but knowing he'd call if anything in dire need of her assistance or attention arose. At least that's what he assumed she thought.

The sun set, matte and dry behind him and he watched the door expectantly, eyes half-lidded and dull, well-knowing that the people he wanted most to come through the horrible wooden barrier would not do so. They were gone from his life, having moved on to newer and better things, or just moved on, unaware of what lay beyond their chosen path.

Wind rattled the windows around the office, he didn't hear it, blank eyes looking down at his coffee, seeing the components separated and floating in brackish water. Clumps of milky white cream, globules near the very top of the drink, while what little sugar had been in the mixture had long since floated to the bottom. He could only assume that it tasted like garbage by that time, but he didn't move to dump it or put down the dark blue mug he held.

He smiled a little at the reminder of the little blue thing he held.

It matches your eyes ...

It had been a gift from someone very special to him, and quickly became the most special and treasured object in his life. A little dark blue mug marked with pale blue lines of imperfection held his muggy coffee and some of the most precious and sweet memories he ever had.

Two years previous

"Let's go out."

"Now?"

"Right now."

Roy glanced at his long-time friend, giving him his best 'that's not funny' look.

"We're in the middle of work. Can't it wait?"

A shake of his head and a fabulous smile did Roy in and he stood: "Fine, you win. But only if we're not taking all day. I don't know about you, but I still have work to finish."

Gold eyes glittered and Maes opened the door to Roy's office, allowing the two of them to exit.

Roy looked hard at the tiny little store, tucked away from the busy streets in the far back of an ally between two floral shops. It was minuscule, it was bland, it was old ...

"It's a pottery shop," Maes declared happily, hands on his hips and smiling up at the painted and peeling letters that told the title of said shop: P- - t - r - y R - - m in bold, dull green letters. Time had not shown the poor little sign mercy and Roy could only imagine that it had once said 'Pottery Room' instead of the jumble of consonants it now read.

Roy looked a little harder at the shop, finding nothing spectacular or overly noteworthy about it's existence and wondered just why his best friend had brought him here.

"A pottery shop," he echoed. "It's a pottery shop."

Maes nodded once, smile still in place and he marched up to the glass door. The door that was so covered in dirt Roy couldn't see through it.

"I found something that's absolutely perfect for you," the door opened by Hughes's command and Roy waited for it to fall off it's hinges and crumble into a pile of dust and termites. When it did nothing more than creak and groan on it's horribly rusted hinges, Roy looked at Maes, who continued smiling. "Let's go see if it's still here."

Roy decided to keep his comments to himself, seriously doubting that the store saw as many customers in a year as it's neighboring floral shops saw in a week. Therefore, the likeliness of 'it' being gone were next to none. Whatever 'it' was.

An elderly man and woman smiled at the pair, thin greying hair and wrinkly faces making Roy think that perhaps they were the ones who began the little shop. He waved a hand in front of his face as dust invaded his lungs, but soon paused. It smelled familiar. Very familiar.

"Ah, you're the young man from yesterday," the old man gave a toothy grin. "Come back to look some more?"

Maes smiled sweetly at the couple, laughing a little: "Yeah. I came to buy something for my buddy here. It's a special day today and he needs a little gift."

"Oh, well," the man bent behind the counter and pulled something wrapped in brown paper out. "I saw you looking so intently at this yesterday that I decided to put it back here. I figured you'd come back for it and what do you know? My hunch was right."

Maes's eyes sparkled and he walked to the counter, carefully taking the package from the man he peeked under the paper.

Roy watched silently, taking a quick look around the shop filled with pottery and glass. Everything was obviously hand-made and painted. Possibly by the old couple, or maybe their children and grandchildren or other family members had contributed to the lot as well.

"Oh," Maes's exclamation made him look back at the three gathered around the counter. "This is it! And it's still as perfect as yesterday! Thank-you so much!"

The officer reached for his wallet, but the old woman wheezed a little and laughed, shaking her head: "No, no. We don't need your money."

Maes cast a questioning glance at the pair: "But it's your merchandise. I need to pay for it."

The woman smiled, mouth as full of teeth as the man's: "My husband and I aren't long for this world, so we ask that you take it as a gift for your boyfriend there. Give it to him with all the love you can muster. That's all we ask."

The other's expression turned somber and Roy felt his own face stiffen.

"But what about the rest of your family? Won't they take over the shop and need the money anyway?"

The couple chuckled, the old man replying: "No. Our family moved far far away and they won't be coming back. Not even to our own funeral. But, if it's not too much to ask, try and turn people in our direction so all of our beloved work can have a home. Tell them everything's free."

Maes nodded and smiled at the couple: "Sure thing."

Roy gave a little sigh and left the building. No wonder that scent inside the shop was familiar. It was one he knew well: the scent of the dying. He looked up at the clear blue sky and inhaled fresh air. The shop door creaked and he didn't have to turn to know it was Maes, standing behind him with a little brown package and a frown.

"It wasn't your fault," he said.

Roy closed his eyes, face remaining upturned towards the warm sun. Of course Maes knew what was bothering him. Speaking of death always sent memories of Ishval back to him. Memories he'd rather soon forget.

"They want us to help," the taller put an arm around Roy's chest, bringing him back into an embrace. "And I want to help them. It's the least we can do."

Roy leaned back: "No, Maes. The least we can do is nothing, and I have work to get back to."

Addressed man put his head down and nibbled lightly on Roy's ear: "Please, Roy? After they /gave/ us a gift, we could help out just a little."

The younger officer tilted his head back as Maes moved to his neck, licking at it: "Just a little. I promise. Just for a little while."

Roy thought for a moment, hearing the crinkle of paper as Maes shifted his other arm.

"Just ... just for a little while, then," Roy said, opening his eyes to the day once more.

They ended up spending all day at the front of that alley, getting customer after customer for the little shop and it's little old owners. And in their uniforms no less! When the shop finally closed down that night, most of its inventory had been given a home and the couple was extremely grateful, giving Maes a green coffee mug that was surprisingly well-made.

On their way back to Roy's place Maes hummed, a huge smile plastered on his face. The other frowned a little, looking at the still wrapped package that his friend held, wondering what it could contain.

"You'll see," Roy looked up to see Maes's amused face watching him. He blushed and turned away, picking up the pace for a reason he couldn't name.

When they finally got to Roy's home it was well after dark and Maes immediately used his friend's phone to call Gracia, telling her he'd be spending the night with the other man and wouldn't be back until after work the next day.

"Why don't you just go home, Hughes," Roy murmured, watching as his friend lit up a cigarette. "You have a daughter and wife waiting for you."

Maes puffed on the stick, blowing the acrid smoke lazily into the air: "Do you remember what I said at the shop?"

Roy shrugged and moved to a tea kettle, filling it with water and setting it on the stove: "You say a lot of things, Hughes. How can I remember just one thing? Especially when I had my mind on work all day. Work that has yet to get done, I might add."

A warm body pressed against his back and two arms caught his against his own body. He turned and the cigarette that was once being sucked on by that talented mouth was gone, leaving Maes free to press their lips together.

"'It's a special day today'," he said, ending the intimate contact. "That's what I said. 'It's a special day today and he needs a little gift'."

"It's your wedding anniversary," Roy sighed, pulling away.

Maes let him: "It's the anniversary of the day you became Lieutenant Colonel."

"It's the anniversary of my breakdown during the Ishval War."

Maes smiled: "It's the anniversary of our first time together."

Roy froze. Of course it was. He had forgotten because all he could remember were the bad things. His breakdown and attempted suicide after killing the Rockwells. His first crush dumped him years earlier than that. And of course Maes's wedding. He had been first man and although Gracia knew and accepted that Roy had been and would always be Maes's first lover, he hated her. Hated her for her ability to waltz around knowing she could have Maes in public. Show off their love in the form of their daughter. Her ring. Pictures of the wedding day. While he ... he and Maes barely saw each other. There was no more tenderness. Their relationship was over and what memories they had were never known to the public. They skirted around the subject like it was a fire. A fire that would spread and destroy everything they owned, including their reputation and friendship.

"We've already established that our relationship is over, Hughes," Roy dead panned. "Anything beyond a professional one is out of the question."

"Oh? And what's a few drinks between friends? Out of the question, too," he heard the smile in Maes's voice and knew what the older man was planning. He knew he couldn't risk it, couldn't risk feeling Maes's warm body pressing against his, the pressure of the other as he was pushed into the mattress. But most of all he couldn't risk the feeling of ecstasy when Maes finally pushed into him, drowning out all rational thought and everything but the feeling of that glorious body moving on top of him, in him. Everywhere Maes's hand touched would be fire, the same fire they tried for years to avoid, the fire that would spell the end of their happy lives if anyone were to find out.

"Hughes-"

Maes cut him off: "Don't you want to open your present now?"

Roy sighed and nodded, sure he would be pulled into Maes's ploy. The other man handed him the little brown package and Roy fiddled with the paper, trying to guess what it could be. It was something small, according to Maes it was 'perfect' for him, and it came from a pottery shop.

Gold eyes sparkling, Maes washed out his new mug and put some tea leaves in it, turning on the stove to heat the water that was momentarily forgotten. Roy watched him, turning the package in his hands thoughtfully.

"Instead of standing there for hours thinking about what it could be, why don't you just open it and find out," Maes teased.

"That would take all the fun out of tormenting you," Roy smirked and turned his profile to the older man.

"Just being near me is tormenting," the officer mumbled, stripping off his jacket and glasses. "You must have some sort of idea how it is," he walked to the other's side, and once more pulled the smaller body against his own, "to be near the one you want but can no longer have."

"You're married, and you chose it. We're feeling two different things, Hughes," Roy's expression turned sullen and he tore the paper off the small thing.

Brown strips landed on the floor and Roy looked carefully at his new gift. A little blue mug, paler blue lines wandering across the surface where the paint either ran or refused to stick.

"A coffee mug," he mumbled, tracing it's outline with fine fingertips.

"Do you like it," at the blue-eyed man's confirming nod Maes continued: "I figured it would be better than a ring or something that I was going to originally get you because it's discreet, but still from me. And it's practical and no one will suspect that someone special gave it to you, so our relationship that's far beyond professionals will continue to go unnoticed."

"Hughes ... I already told you, our relationship is over. We ended it mutually when you married Gracia," Roy set the mug down and turned to the taller, frowning. "You know that."

"The relationship may have ended, but my feelings never changed, Roy," Maes reached out and cupped Roy's chin, tilting his face up and planting a small kiss on his lips. He pulled away and smiled: "Now, how about those drinks? We gotta celebrate somehow."

In the end they spent half the night drinking. They told foolish stories and crude jokes, laughing all the while. At midnight Maes and Roy were absolutely trashed and their self control ended when Roy fell on top of his best friend. They never made it to the mattress, but the kitchen proved to be the place for the most interesting positions, and that food was indeed a great thing to have in sex.

Three hours and twelve ejaculations between the two of them landed them in the bed with Maes's green mug filled with wine and Roy's blue one filled with scotch.

"You know," Maes said, alcohol and sex wearing off quickly. "The reason I picked that mug ... It matches you eyes. Did you know that your eyes are the most beautiful blue I have ever seen? I honestly think Mother Nature made you with perfection in mind."

Roy snorted into his scotch, a faint blush across his cheeks: "That's the worst line I've ever heard. Just to get me into bed with you. You're drunk, Maes."

Maes laughed: "Although I must point out that /you're/ drunk and we're already in bed. And ..." He trailed off and reached over to cup Roy's half-hard erection. " ... I seem to have turned you on with those words."

"It's the alcohol," Roy defied, rolling his hips to get more pressure.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Maes smirked and set his mug aside, rolling over to cover Roy's body with his own.

Present Day

His smile turned into a frown and he looked up. Havoc sat on his desk, smoking a cigarette that was already half gone.

The blonde man looked at him, worry evident on his face: "Is it over?"

Roy nodded, knowing Havoc meant his reminiscing. He had been doing that more and more frequently as of late and Havoc made a habit of finding him during such times and then waiting until he was back in the present world.

"Do you need to talk about it?"

Roy shook his head and turned the icy cup in his hands: "It was ... good ... this time."

Havoc smiled at his superior: "Well, I'm glad." When Roy did nothing but stare into his separated coffee, the Lieutenant Colonel tapped on the wooden desk. His commanding officer looked up and the blonde leaned in: "Wanna go for coffee?"

Roy gave a small laugh and stood up: "Sure. Let's go for coffee. The stuff you made me is terrible."

"Hey, you're the one who let it sit forever," the other defended as they left the empty room.

A/N: Yeah, I wasn't quite sure how to end this one. It's actually the third story in a group of, so far, three. I think I'll continue with this and have Roy and Havoc date next. Of course Roy doesn't seem to have much luck with men. Maes married then went off and died. And now Ed's married to Winry, but I planned that out so it wouldn't last. Winry's kinda bossy and so is Ed, so I figure they won't stay together. Maybe when Ed comes back, he'll try and steal Roy away from Havoc. Who knows? I really should write the first two before I do stuff like this. People are gonna get confused.