Not proofed; too tired. Must sleep now. Ironic considering what this chapter is about. yawn Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter 6

Frank Archer, had a long day.

His morning was filled with the joys of the Crimson Alchemist causing chaos for Tucker when Archer came to check on the Chimera Man before work. Apparently he thought it funny to blow up random equipment in the shop in tiny explosions and seeing if Tucker noticed. Archer had to personally console the man when Kimblee blew something up that he needed to fix 'Nina.' Not to mention, Kimblee had been in the oddest moods as of late and it was driving Archer nuts. It was as if the man had it in him to be next to Archer every possible moment when the man wasn't inside of his house or in his office during work hours. It was smothering.

Archer sighed deeply as he shut the door to his house and hung his coat on the rack. At least he'd had a break for the past few hours. A meeting with Mustang after work to discuss training exercises with the troops had kept him long after hours and Kimblee away. Archer had never been so happy to stay with the Flame Alchemist for an extended period of time in his life. In fact, when they put personal issues aside he had a smidgen of respect for the other man and his experience in battle and good taste in whiskey.

But not by much.

Archer walked into his kitchen and poured himself a warm glass of scotch to help calm him before bed. After savoring the liquid in peace and quiet (for the first time in what seemed like forever), Archer placed the empty glass in the bottom of his sink and replaced the bottle back into the cabinet for later. Managing his subordinates in the morning, putting up with Armstrong in the office, commanding troops all afternoon and a meeting with Mustang in the evening had left Archer exhausted. Now, the only thing the Lieutenant Colonel wanted to do was to go into his room, hit the bed and fall asleep.

However, it seemed fate was against him.

"What are you doing, Kimblee?"

"Lying down. What's it look like?"

A disapproving grunt followed from Archer's throat and he unbuttoned his uniform with more force than necessary. The man dropped his uniform coat onto the back of his desk chair and crossed his arms. It just wasn't fair. "And why are you doing it on my bed?"

"It's comfortable."

"It's late."

"Your point?"

"I want to go to bed." Archer walked to the edge of the bed and contemplated kicking Kimblee off of it. The man was sprawled out like a cat on one side of the bed, still in full uniform no less. Hell, the man still had his boots on. Archer tried to contain his temper. "I'm exhausted and I'm in no mood for this right now."

Kimblee kept his eyes closed and let the smile stretch on his face. Archer was talking through his teeth; it was only a matter of time before he took action. Kimblee was ready to move their best buddy friendship into rough housing. His fingers twitched in anticipation of a good, friendly rumble. "I don't mind sharing."

"Kimblee!" Archer shouted this time and stomped his foot on the ground. A finger pointed towards his door in the same commanding fashion he had used earlier in the days to get his troops to cooperate. "Get out and go home!"

"But I don't like the dorms." Kimblee curled onto his side. He wasn't budging. Mustang got Archer all day again watching those troops, so Kimblee got him all night. It was simple math. Archer would just have to accept it or fight back. The Alchemist was up for either, really. "So get used to it."

"If you don't get out of that bed this instance-"

"You'll do what."

Archer narrowed his brows as Kimblee cut him off mid sentence; the threat was laced in the icy tone. The alchemist hadn't moved from the bed, but he had opened his eyes. Those golden eyes showed none of their usual playfulness that Archer was familiar with. They were molten and narrowed; Archer swallowed thickly. Kimblee was angry and acting unusual. The man had been clingy as hell lately and Archer was getting sick of it. Dangerous alchemist or not. "Get out."

Kimblee's expression didn't change, though he was more amused. Archer couldn't do shit to him and he was still putting up a front. Too bad the Crimson Alchemist caught the slight shaking of Archer's hands. He was nervous. Kimblee smirked and felt the grin crawling on his face. "Make me."

Archer growled and walked around to the clear side of the bed and started to undo the top button of his dress shirt. Kimblee was starting to look more and more cocky by the second. At least it was better than the earlier anger. He couldn't face the man, so Archer stared at his wall and dresser. "What is wrong with you? You've been particularly juvenile all week. And don't think I haven't noticed the number of murders showing up on my desk, either."

"You've left me bored going off by yourself all the time." Kimblee shrugged and let his eyes trail over the man's bare torso. He was surprisingly fit for a desk jockey; though Kimblee shouldn't have expected any less. The man was obsessed with going to war; surely he worked out to stay in shape. Kimblee smiled when Archer turned to look at him; pajama shirt in his hand. "So I have to entertain myself double when you're here."

"How on earth is sleeping entertaining?" Archer cringed the moment the sentence spilled from his lips and Kimblee's face lit up. That was just perfect. Archer started to put on his pajama shirt and decided he might change his pants in the bathroom when he brushed his teeth. "Are you really planning on staying there all night?"

"Yup." Kimblee smirked as Archer took his pajama pants into the bathroom with him and slammed the door. All he had to do was wait and see Archer's next course of action. He could either get into the bed with him and pretend like nothing was wrong. The cold shoulder approach. Or Archer would go sleep on the couch and leave him by his lonesome. Not that Kimblee would stay in the bedroom if that happened. He was paying Archer back for leaving Kimblee all alone while the good Lieutenant Colonel played with Mustang.

Archer shoved the toothbrush into his mouth violently as he brushed his teeth. He had half a mind to go in there, shoot Kimblee in the leg, kick him off the bed and hell with the consequences. Archer spit in the sink after rinsing his mouth and wiped it with a cloth. The other half of his mind told him to ignore Kimblee and just go to sleep. Archer sighed and returned to his bedroom to see Kimblee smirking on the bed- this time with his boots next to the bed and the alchemist under the covers. He wondered if it was possible to compromise between those two options. "Move over. I sleep on that side."

"Obsessive compulsive are we?" Kimblee scooted over regardless. He was so amused by Archer's pajamas now that he was looking at them, he forgot his angry jealousy. Kimblee watched as the man slid gracefully under the covers; clearly the blue silk pajamas aided the smooth transition. Kimblee fingered the sleeves when Archer was still leaning up on his elbows. "So where'd you get these? Pretty nice."

"They were a gift." Archer swatted Kimblee's pawing hands away. The man was like a five year old. "I'm going to sleep. If you insist on being a pest and staying the night than I expect you to stay on your side of the bed and to sleep."

Kimblee snickered as Archer's head hit the pillow and he crossed his hands just above his abs. Archer slept like a corpse. Somehow it seemed fitting. Kimblee sat up and started to undo the bottoms of his jacket and shrugged it off onto the floor. He let the covers pool around his waist and put his arms behind his head. He closed his eyes and listened to Archer's breathing. While Kimblee had been hoping for a fight, this was nice, too. "Nightie, night."

Archer woke the next morning with a frown on his face. Normally he started the morning by turning off his alarm and taking a shower. However, this fine morning his arms were trapped to his chest by a very heavy weight. A heavy weight that snored. "Kimblee, wake up."

The Crimson Alchemist responded by tightening his death grip and snuggling closer. The man looked like he was hugging a teddy bear. Archer tried to lodge his arm out from under the other man and was unsuccessful. "Kimblee, I'm serious. Wake up or I'll be late!"

"Your clock says five." Kimblee slurred and glared up at the other man. He was disgustingly awake. "It takes fifteen minutes to get to the office from here. Another hour won't kill you." With that in mind, Kimblee dropped his head back down. It was too early for this.

"Kimblee. You're awake, now get off." Finally freeing a hand Archer pulled himself up by the headboard. "I swear, for someone so thin, you weigh a ton."

"Should work out more."

"For goodness' sake." Archer exhaled a thick breath when he managed to get up in a sitting position shifting Kimblee off to the side. The man eventually released his arms with a grumble and curled up into the empty space. Archer shook his head and started for the showers. "You are not making a habit of this."

"Aw, why not?" The slurring of Kimblee's voice continued as he rolled over again to watch Archer. The man's body heat was still lingering on the sheets and Kimblee let his cheek hit the fabric. "Twas nice. Warm."

"It's also inappropriate." Archer shook his head. "What if Mustang were to come over to discuss something? Then what would you do?"

Kimblee's eyes opened up and he suddenly felt much more awake. "Why would Mustang come here?"

Archer waved his hand as he stood in his bedroom door and listed off a few reasons. "I don't know, to deliver a document? A social visit for politics' sake? We are coworkers. Visits and drinking together are as expected as small talk at social events."

"Bastard gets you enough as it is during the day." Kimblee snatched the pillow and held it to his chest. He shoved his face into it and tried to control his breathing.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"What is wrong with you?" Archer snatched the pillow and looked at the man. "You aren't acting like yourself. What on earth is eating at you?"

"I'm fine." Kimblee sat up and looked back at the clock. "If you were going to waste time like this anyway, you should have just stayed in bed."

"With you, you mean?" Archer snorted. "You should really hear yourself. You're starting to sound like a lovesick puppy."

Kimblee flinched.

Archer noticed. The blue eyed man watched his associate calmly and delegated that a subject change was in order. "Are you going to see Tucker today? He mentioned yesterday asking for your help with something."

"Yeah."

"Good, I guess I'll see you after work then?" Archer avoided all eye contact with Kimblee. "I want to check up on the both of you and your progress with the chimera. With the troops I don't have as much time as I'd like to keep tabs on the two of you."

"Yeah, tabs." Kimblee's voice was low and controlled. Partially from anger; partially from confusion. "Are you seeing Mustang, today?"

"No, the troops have today off."

"Good."

"Alright, I'm taking a shower."

"Alright." The bathroom door shut with a solid click and the sound of running water was soon filling the apartment. Kimblee was left alone with his thoughts.

The Crimson Alchemist had come over to Archer's apartment the other day fully intending to pick a fight over being ignored. What he had gotten, was a night snuggling with the man in his bed. And he liked it. Kimblee liked sleeping in the same bed with Archer. And just sleeping and being close and feeling those damn silk pajamas and cool skin. Kimblee clenched his hand opened them again.

What the hell did that mean?