Battle Broken
Aug. 20th, 2012 02:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
twilight_lamentTitle: Battle Broken
Canon: FMA
Characters: Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang
Rating: PG
Summary: He smells like smoke and ash. When they had been in the Academy, Maes had come to associate those scents with Roy and found them comfortable.
Disclaimer: Yes we all know that I don't own FMA.
"It's quiet tonight." Yet despite the silence, Maes barely hears Roy's quiet words. He's right though; there's no gun fire, no screaming, and for now the fires are out.
The ground is cold under them and even heavy coats can't ward off the desert night's chill. They'd learned over time the best was to keep warm. Hughes wore his coat and leaned up against whatever piece of wall was still standing in the whatever hollowed building their unit was in for the night. Roy would press back against him and drape his coat over the front, forming as much of a cocoon as possible for them. It isn't perfect but it keeps them warmer than those huddled singularly in darkness, fires being too risky to light.
Maes and Roy rarely sleep so taking the late watch allows them to curl together in shared warmth without prying, curious stares. They'll guard the unit and keep each distracted, avoiding the nightmares of war for a little while longer. Warmth isn't all they share, but they both forbid talking about them beyond the here and now.
"Is that a hint that you need a bedtime story?" Roy sleeps even less than Hughes, so on nights when they can share a watch, Maes always tries to the get the alchemist to sleep.
"Maes." Amusement and disapproval lace Roy's words though more of the former than the latter. Maes grins and leans in enough to bury his nose into Roy's hair. He smells like smoke and ash. When they had been in the Academy, Maes had come to associate those scents with Roy and found them comfortable. Too often these days though burning flesh and charred bone accompany those familiar scents, destroying the familiar. Right now the less pleasant (murderous) odors don't exist and Hughes closes his eyes, thinking of the first time Roy set an old couch on fire in demonstration.
"What? I could tell you about The Adventures of Barnaby Cross since no one wants me to sing." Maes never could carry a tune in a bucket and with the sleepless nights and days spent on the run, his voice is hoarse and far too coarse to hold anything resembling a melody. "Or would you rather have Fluffy the Spotted Dog?"
"You're hopeless." Roy speaks those words a lot and maybe that's why Maes hears the way they tremble that much better. Automatically he pulls Roy closer and shifts enough in tandem with Roy for the younger man to bury his head against Hughes' neck. He'll never speak of the hot tears against his neck or the sobs absorbed and hidden by skin.
Despite his earlier protests, Hughes picks Roy's favorite song. It keeps him from breaking down even though he's only loud for Roy to hear. Time passes and the alchemist quiets - breaths deep and even. Hughes holds on tight and keeps singing in the hopes of staving off the nightmares for them both.
Canon: FMA
Characters: Maes Hughes & Roy Mustang
Rating: PG
Summary: He smells like smoke and ash. When they had been in the Academy, Maes had come to associate those scents with Roy and found them comfortable.
Disclaimer: Yes we all know that I don't own FMA.
"It's quiet tonight." Yet despite the silence, Maes barely hears Roy's quiet words. He's right though; there's no gun fire, no screaming, and for now the fires are out.
The ground is cold under them and even heavy coats can't ward off the desert night's chill. They'd learned over time the best was to keep warm. Hughes wore his coat and leaned up against whatever piece of wall was still standing in the whatever hollowed building their unit was in for the night. Roy would press back against him and drape his coat over the front, forming as much of a cocoon as possible for them. It isn't perfect but it keeps them warmer than those huddled singularly in darkness, fires being too risky to light.
Maes and Roy rarely sleep so taking the late watch allows them to curl together in shared warmth without prying, curious stares. They'll guard the unit and keep each distracted, avoiding the nightmares of war for a little while longer. Warmth isn't all they share, but they both forbid talking about them beyond the here and now.
"Is that a hint that you need a bedtime story?" Roy sleeps even less than Hughes, so on nights when they can share a watch, Maes always tries to the get the alchemist to sleep.
"Maes." Amusement and disapproval lace Roy's words though more of the former than the latter. Maes grins and leans in enough to bury his nose into Roy's hair. He smells like smoke and ash. When they had been in the Academy, Maes had come to associate those scents with Roy and found them comfortable. Too often these days though burning flesh and charred bone accompany those familiar scents, destroying the familiar. Right now the less pleasant (murderous) odors don't exist and Hughes closes his eyes, thinking of the first time Roy set an old couch on fire in demonstration.
"What? I could tell you about The Adventures of Barnaby Cross since no one wants me to sing." Maes never could carry a tune in a bucket and with the sleepless nights and days spent on the run, his voice is hoarse and far too coarse to hold anything resembling a melody. "Or would you rather have Fluffy the Spotted Dog?"
"You're hopeless." Roy speaks those words a lot and maybe that's why Maes hears the way they tremble that much better. Automatically he pulls Roy closer and shifts enough in tandem with Roy for the younger man to bury his head against Hughes' neck. He'll never speak of the hot tears against his neck or the sobs absorbed and hidden by skin.
Despite his earlier protests, Hughes picks Roy's favorite song. It keeps him from breaking down even though he's only loud for Roy to hear. Time passes and the alchemist quiets - breaths deep and even. Hughes holds on tight and keeps singing in the hopes of staving off the nightmares for them both.