Good Shit / Royed

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The night was cold.

Icy windows with frost peeking at the corners, a blank landscape that used to be the cobbled street was the only thing he could see outside his high arched window, soft grey curtains framing the scene as though it was a picture on one of the Christmas cards Riza bought him, sitting on the mantle above the warm fireplace.

Mustang sank deeper into his chair. Delicate fingers ran across the leather-bound book, as the man sighed, subconsciously curling closer towards the flickering flames licking at the metal grate which was keeping his house from burning down.

He hated Christmas. No, not Christmas; Mustang got time off at Christmas. He hated winter - the cold that seemed to creep up on them in autumn and then attack in the latter part of the year, strangling what was left of the heat with chilly winds and flurries of thick snow.

Ugh. It was wet, too.

The faint vibrations of his phone brought him out of his trance, the familiar feeling against his right leg waking him up. Looking up from the book, he placed it down on the sleek almost-black grey coffee table and took him phone out of the pocket, groaning when he saw the words 'Edward Elric' on his screen. Lazily unlocking it, Roy Mustang went straight to his messages. It just so happened that Roy and Ed got into a fight a few days prior, so to think of what new curse words he managed to come up with within that time would positively blow his mind aw-

Oh my god, Mustang thought, as the screen finally loaded, nearly blinding him at first with its surprising brightness. Then, as his eyes quickly focussed, the ebony haired, supposed womanizer of Central and indeed Amestris, choked on his own saliva at a picture of another man completely naked.

It wasn't like you could see his genitals, however. He was sitting at an angle - On his bed with crossed legs, facing the window with the curtains slightly drawn so a single shaft of streetlight hit his body. At a 3/4 angle, but facing away from him so he could just about see a hint of his face, a ghost of a warm smile gracing his features. And his back- the focal point, apparently; was arched backwards like a cat's, every single muscle being lightly lit by the shaft, messy sheets circling the body.

Well. Roy's mind wasn't the only thing being blown tonight.

However, although he craved the simple moments like this (with no angry shouting or name calling), Roy Mustang couldn't help but grin at the trouble he was about to cause. With a knowing glance, Roy Mustang pressed paste.

-

Ed waited patiently. Well, as patient as Ed could be, naked on his bed and itching to go see Roy. He nearly jumped when the ping from his phone rang across the room. As he scrambled to get it, he quickly fished it out from under the covers and checked his messages.

'sign me the FUCK up 👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀👌👀 good shit go౦ԁ sHit👌 thats ✔ some good👌👌shit right👌👌th 👌 ere👌👌👌 right✔there ✔✔if i do ƽaү so my selｆ 💯 i say so 💯 thats what im talking about right there right there (chorus: ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵗʰᵉʳᵉ) mMMMMᎷМ💯 👌👌 👌НO0ОଠＯOOＯOОଠଠOoooᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒᵒ👌 👌👌 👌 💯 👌 👀 👀 👀 👌👌Good shit'

'im dumping u'