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The air is still.
Soreness starts to wake up in his hips, his shoulders aren’t quite where he’d like them to be and probably haven’t been there since whenever he found himself in this bed. This bed with linens that were somehow a bit too crisply clean and rough against his bare skin.
He realizes that he probably didn’t follow his date back to her place. Hopefully he didn’t spend too much on this room. Not that he couldn’t afford it, but, at his age it was starting to feel a bit wasteful. He has a perfectly good home. Soft sheets, too.
Roy reaches across the bed. The sunlight streaming through the curtains is blinding. It's no compliment at all to his splitting headache. His pulse roars between his ears. With a groan, he pulls the heavy white comforter over his drum set of a head.
The offending sun reappears. “Jeez, I didn’t take you for a blanket hog.”
What?
Way too familiar, a touch grating, a bit deeper than he’d expect but…
Wait. He lurches upright. The offending sun indeed.
Edward Elric, an absolute vision. Golden hair cascades down his back, spills over chiseled shoulders, and has Roy even seen him with his hair down -- as an adult -- not a shell of a boy?
His tan skin glows against the white mounds of sheets and bedding. His torso is swarmed by blooming patches of crimson and purple.
Wait.
His heart pounds. He didn’t drink that much. He couldn't have.
“Uh, hello? Earth to Mustang?”
The room is spinning. Yesterday’s whiskey lurches. Clammy hands grasp for the comforter again, snatching it back. Roy finds himself scrambling to his feet. Green around the gills, he clambers across the hardwood onto the smooth tile of the bathroom.
Wait.
With all the grace of a stable of horses, he slams the door shut.