Hawkeye flinched as some foreign object collided heavily against Colonel Mustang's office wall. "Hey, you little runt! You almost hit me with that!" Roy shouted heatedly.
Even though the door was shut and, presumably, locked, all members of the unit present stopped what they were doing to stare at the office entrance. The Flame and Fullmetal were a couple that got into arguments regularly—mostly it was little, meaningless tiffs over some alchemic jargon or whether or not Roy let his eyes linger on a passing woman's form for too long. Sometimes Ed would screech about the indignity of being called short by the man he was sleeping with and Roy would just dig the knife in deeper, until Hawkeye took it upon herself to go in and tell them to "Please, keep it down. The rest of us are trying to work."
It wasn't often that the two alchemists had a serious fight; however, when they did . . .
Heads literally rolled.
And that was exactly what was happening now. Hot waves of anger pulsated from inside the office, seeping out through the cracks in the plaster and stone, radiating to the farthest corners of Central. Those within range—even Hawkeye—knew better than to interrupt the two.
Now, the only logical thing to do was to hunker down and pray for daylight.
"Well, don't move next time and maybe I will!" came the seething retort. And then, for good measure: "AND I AM NOT A LITTLE RUNT!"
Havoc shot a suddenly weary glance across the table at Breda and Fuery. The fact that the blonde had opted not to go headlong into his usual rant, choosing instead to parrot back a negative of what had actually been said, showed how extraordinarily pissed off he truly was.
There was then another crash and the sound of glass shattering.
"My window!" the colonel bellowed. "Fullmetal, you're paying for that!"
"Oh, bite me, you arrogant prick!"
"Love to, but I'm sure it would leave a bad taste in my mouth!"
"Well, that certainly didn't stop you last night!"
"I told you, I was doing work!"
"Work my ass!"
"I swear! I come home late one time, and your immediate conclusion is that I'm cheating on you!"
The entire outer office shifted around uncomfortably—almost guiltily—and went back to doing work. Well, they went back to appearing like they were working. Anything but staring at the door, looking like a bunch of vultures just waiting for the relationship to die.
Ed's shrill voice echoed off the cramped office walls. "You're damn right!"
"That's it!" yelled the Flame Alchemist with vehemence. "That's it! I've had enough of you today. Get out!"
"In fact," Roy plowed on as if the blonde hadn't spoken, "I want you out of the house by the time I get home tonight."
The silence that followed that statement was almost deafening.
Suddenly, a tiny voice mumbled something—not nearly loud enough to understand what was said—and Havoc had to fight back the urge he felt to get up and press his ear against that door.
"You bet I mean it," said Roy loudly, breaking the crushing silence. "I want you gone by tonight."
There was a pregnant pause, followed by:
"I hate you!"
And Edward stormed out of the office, golden eyes clamped shut against the onslaught of tears that were straining to escape their prison. The colonel appeared in the doorway, his brows knitted in an annoyed expression, and watched as the tail of the blonde's red travel coat vanished around the corner and out into the hallway.
Roy pursed his lips and grunted wearily to himself, before he finally took notice that everyone in the office was staring at him. He growled out, "Get back to work," and slammed the door.
Normally, it took no more than a few days for Roy and Edward to settle their disputes and get back to enjoying each other's company—quite vigorously to make up for their time apart, one might add. However, this was not the case for this particular fight.
The end of week two found a very disgruntled, very lascivious, and very lonely Roy Mustang in his office, twiddling a pen between his pale fingers. He was supposed to be signing papers, as per usual, but the man just couldn't focus. This was normal, but the fact that he was daydreaming about Ed was what had the colonel worried.
The blonde had—for the first time in his seventeen year life—done exactly what Roy had told him to do and had moved out. Upon returning home that night, the Flame had been unpleasantly surprised to find that all of Edward's stuff (as well as Edward himself) had disappeared from his residence. Roy had seen neither hide nor hair of the boy since.
Not that Roy was . . . worried about the shrimp. Not at all.
And he wasn't about the search Ed out to apologize to him. No, sir. If anyone should be the one to say he was sorry for being a stupid idiot, it should be the younger of the two. The one whose fault the fight was in the first place. He had been wrongfully accused by his lover—well, ex-lover, now apparently—of being unfaithful.
Roy wasn't going to apologize for acting like anyone else in the same situation would. However . . .
That didn't mean that he did not miss Ed.
Roy Mustang sighed heavily, twirling the pen around and going back to signing the important documents that had become piled up on his desk. He was just getting back into the rhythm of things, when he suddenly heard loud footfalls approaching the outer office; thinking nothing of it, really, he continued in trying to make up for the slacking off that he had been doing as of late, but stopped and glanced up when he heard several loud gasps and the sound of something heavy hitting the floor just outside.
There was a knock on his door, apparently just to appear courteous, before whoever had caused the commotion outside walked in. Roy's jaw dropped.
It was Edward. There was no mistaking that; however, something was extremely off. A small smile crept onto the colonel's face and he asked, "What did you do?"
The Elric had cut his hair. The thick plait of blonde hair that normally swung down between his shoulder blades was gone, hacked off by what Roy was sure had been the stunted bayonet that the Fullmetal could make from his own arm; his bangs were also haphazardly cut away, shortened and even more uneven then they had been before.
His hair was just as short as the night Roy had first laid eyes on him back in Resembool.
"Do you hate me?"
Surprisingly enough, the question had not come from the Flame, but from Edward. Roy blinked and straightened in his chair, noticing the annoyed, but anxious look that the blonde was giving the nearby wall (for he wasn't looking at him). He also saw the rather pretty pink blush that was staining the teen's cheeks and nose.
Standing and making his way around the desk, Roy walked over to his lover, took him gently by the chin and pressed his lips against the blonde's. Pulling back slightly, the dark-haired man chuckled down at the boy and said, "Come on, Edward. Let's go get your hair fixed."
That's it! If you liked it, please review to tell me how much you liked it. If you didn't . . . well, blame Lina! I have to Thank Lina though. Even though the idea was my own she help alot with the writting. With out her help it wouldn't be as awesome!
Thanks Lina. I love you, but not as much as Sooner, but he loves Shessy more!