Thank you arisha12 for your reviews! I'm really happy to read them!

Do you guys listen to music while reading? Because 'Unspoken Words' by Evan Call (Violet Evergarden) was perfect for writing this. The soundtrack is genius altogether.

Hope you'll enjoy!

Where Contact Is The Best Comfort

Havoc awoke at the sound of his roommate's hushed voice.

"Lieutenant," Mustang was calling into the dark, knowing her to be awake. There was a rustle of clothes – heavy military clothes – as she got up from where she had been sitting. Havoc let his head fall to the side to be facing them, eyes shut and breath even, not a single wrinkle on his forehead that could give away that he was not asleep. Still, any noise died down, the two, though mostly Hawkeye, he assumed, alert. She waited for another moment and even then only reacted when the Colonel addressed her again.

She did not raise her own voice, her eyes speaking for themselves as she peered into the dark with concern written all over her face.

"Your back, Lieutenant, how is it?" Mustang asked.

"My back, Sir?" Her voice was even quieter than his, the shuffling of sheets following that of her uniform.

"Fuery said you hit the wall pretty forcefully when that Homunculus attacked," he said, obviously having been bothered by it for a while. "That bastard, throwing you around like a toy…" he drifted into a growl but she seemed to calm him with what Havoc could not see being a hand on her superior officer's shoulder.

"It's nothing," she soothed but he was not content with that. There was more susurration of fabric, followed by a sigh of the mattress, a soft hum coming from her lips that made the second Lieutenant stiffen where he laid. Carefully, he opened one eye a slot wide. Both nearly popped, widening without restraint when he finally caught sight of the scene on the bed next to his.

Hawkeye was kneeling with one knee on the bed, next to his legs where the Colonel had sat up. Her hands rested on his chest, somewhat squished between them due to the arm he had wrapped around her waist. Tightly, yet gently, he held on to her, just where the black turtleneck she was wearing lifted and he could feel the warm skin of her stomach beneath his fingertips. His other hand had snuck beneath her shirt, travelling up her back, coming to rest between her shoulder blades but taking the hem upwards to the small of her back.

Not enough to spot a hint of her tattoo he knew nothing of but Havoc had other points of interest by far.

"It's hot; it must be bruised," Mustang muttered where his breath hit what little of her neck was exposed. Her eyes were closed, his own merely slits, clouded with worry. With guilt.

"I wouldn't know," was all she replied, a sigh falling from her lips when the bulge of his hand beneath her shirt moved in tender circles. Wandering to her shoulder, he tugged, bringing their faces to the same level, practically inhaling hers. She did not resist, allowing him to pull her down, noses coming to touch the other's cheek without even a nervous flutter of her eyelids. She was completely his, both feeling safe in the black of the night.

"Don't ever do that again," he regained a tinge of sharpness. She gave a questioning hum in the place of a 'Sir?'. "You must never believe the enemy, especially not when it comes to a topic this grave," he picked his lecture from the afternoon back up. "Not until you see with your own eyes, and even then," his arm tightened around her, "don't just give your life up like that," he urged. His hand on her back was trailing further, poking out at her nape, finding the pin that kept her hair up.

"It's worth nothing to me if yours is lost," she shuddered shortly, her voice but a whisper. Exhaling in sorrowful exasperation, his forehead came to meet hers. With what Havoc noted to be a practised ease, the Colonel unclasped and released his Lieutenant's hair, running his fingers through, pressing her to him in needy comfort.

"Don't you dare," he murmured through a clenched jaw. She frowned against him, sighing through her nose. "That is an order," he clarified without elaborating.

"I'm sorry," she spoke so faintly, Havoc hardly understood. He had managed to relax again, seeming unsuspicious but they did not care. They were completely absorbed in each other, a tense fear and longing hanging so densely in the air, even the second Lieutenant felt it grasp him. They very well could have died. All three of them, he knew, their souls all indebted to the Colonel and his Alchemy; his brilliance. His devotion to his friends.

"You should get some sleep," Mustang brought Havoc back to reality. It was so natural, so fitting, the shock of their for once openly displayed affection having abated quickly, the image of their dimly illuminated silhouettes burned into his inner eye nonetheless.

"No, I'm standing guard," she refused, the brief attempt of doing just as she had said nipped in the bud when he kept her in his embrace. She did not try again.

"Let me take this watch, please," he added when she already opened her mouth to refuse. It was most fascinating how they could be that near, lips always on the verge of brushing yet never touching, neither flustered or fraught, though tempted, not giving in to what was so clearly desirable to both. "I've done nothing but lay around all day and I don't want you to be too tired to focus tomorrow," he returned to a more commanding tone, signalling her to be winning this argument; to be serious and not just offering a favour. He must have known her not to have closed her eyes once during his entire treatment.

She sighed into him, shoulders dropping.

"Alright," she agreed. Not moving a millimetre. Neither did he. Havoc caught a smile to be creeping its way onto his lips. Would he have been able to get up, he would have given a shove or some kind of gesture to just make her collapse completely already and get the rest she needed. Those idiots, he thought, watching through heavy lids.

She sighed again, deeper this time, reluctantly raising up, visibly shivering as his hands retracted by tracing down and around her back. Havoc shut his eyes, feeling her unsure stare for an instant, keeping them closed for the rest of the night. She sat in the chair next to the Colonel's bed, dozing off rather quickly with his caring gaze lingering on her throughout the night.

Lost in being in love, they forgot to let the other's hand go until the morning, granting Havoc another sight to behold upon waking up and a pair of scarlet-tinted cheeks to teasingly wiggle his brows at.