Sunset

Author: Poison
Fandom: FullMetal Alchemist
Disclaimer: I don’t own any of this. Jeeze, not even the plot line is mine. I just took it from the show and put what I thought was going on in it. Now, it’s been forever and a year since I watched episode 25-which never happened-so if I don’t have some things right, forgive me.
Beta Whore: Ashton-chan, as per usual
Inspiration: Youtube tribute videos and a really pretty sunset in my back yard.


Sunset

Sunset - Roy Mustang

It’s funny, the things that people say about dusk. That time when the sunset is just in view, all it’s colors laid out for the lovers of the world. They always used to say no one with a broken heart wants to see a sunset. Something about the symbolism, the sun setting on the relationship. I always loved the sunset, even before he came. It made everyone seem so at peace, and it was for those few moments that the world stopped. Everyone would take a breath, and become entranced by the colors and the warm glow even on the coldest days, and nothing was what it seemed anymore. Now the sunset reminds me of his eyes. I don’t quite know why, it’s not like the colors ever reflected them. It was impossible to capture that dragon gold in anything but the real deal. I suppose, reflecting on it now, it’s because they make me feel warm, and safe, just like he always did. It didn’t matter what we were doing, he managed to make me feel calm.

Not that day though. We both felt that there was something wrong, and just before he leaned in to kiss me, I’d told him to go home to his wife. I’d made up some bullshit excuse, because I couldn’t tell him it was tearing my heart out every time we did something together between the sheets, so to speak. He was never mine, even though I was always his. I’d felt something wrong since that morning, and now the feeling was returning ten fold as I straightened up my uniform and stepped out for a drink. I noticed the sunset. A blood red sky met my gaze, and I shuddered under a cold wind that I wasn’t even sure existed. I walked away from the office without saying goodbye to my best friend, and went to drown myself in liquor, because right now, I thought it’d be the only thing I’d be good at.

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Worry - Maes Hughs

He’d never pushed me away before. Not with that look in his eyes, like he was in pain. God, it scared me. The last time that he looked that scared, that hurt, was after Ishbal. I swore that I’d never let him get that look in his eyes again. Slowly, I rose a hand to my chest as the door opened and closed, his last words echoing in my ears.

“Go home, to your wife.”

I couldn’t understand, he’d never shown spite to Gracia, in fact, he usually asked how her and Alicia were doing. There was something sinking in my chest as I followed my friend out of the office, attempting to hold my head higher then I felt, to fool the blonde woman who looked at me with scorn, probably because of the way he’d stormed out. I feel the need to clench my fist as I just walk back to my office, passing several windows on the way. The sunset was red. I hated red sunsets. They always made him uncomfortable. He said they brought about bad luck, which was funny from him, Mr. Logic. I could feel it tonight though, there was something that just wasn’t quite right.

I sat down at my desk and rested my head in my hands. I was married, I loved my wife and my daughter with all my heart, but he was so much more then that. This was beyond love and labels. I belonged to him. Every inch of me he’d touched and caressed, cared for and nurtured, even though sometimes I had to pick him up, he was always the leader. He owned my everything because of that, and held a part of me that no one else could even touch. I had the feeling that he didn’t belong to me as I did him. He was so caught up in his own demons and his own aspirations, so to make him happy, I’ll help them along, always.

As I started looking over the paper work I’d been suspicious about, my last thoughts of him were how I pined to tell him exactly how I felt, even if it wasn’t meant to be.


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Pain - Roy Mustang

I never stumbled. No matter how drunk I’d managed to get, I never stumbled. Now I tripped over my every move. I looked unfocused at the paper work that lay on the varnished desk top, nothing but the lamp next to me illuminating it. The moon was covered by clouds, and I could feel that sinking feeling again. I wondered briefly where he was, if he’d gone home like I’d told him to. If he was still sitting in his office as he’d been before. All the sudden my stomach did a flip flop. There was a searing white pain in my chest and as I clutched it, I wondered vaguely if this was what death would feel like. Fear started pumping through my veins where blood used to reign, and I could feel myself shaking.

With now crystal clear vision and the perception of a hawk, I raced to his office. Like a mantra in my head, I begged to anyone out there that would listen he still be in his office with that warm smile on his face, telling Gracia he’d be home soon. His office was a mess, the light still on and papers having flown everywhere. I started getting dizzy, and my vision started to fade. I realized that I was hyperventilating, and just before the floor came rushing up to meet me, I regretted every moment I never told him, I was always his.

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Death - Maes Hughes

People say that dying is a peaceful experience. I never believed it for a moment. With the blood rushing through my veins, to the open wound like prisoners to a free pass, I felt the entire world start to fade. Though I knew my last thoughts should’ve been of my daughter and wife, and what would come of them, they weren’t. My last prayer was that he would be safe, and that he would be alright without me pushing him along, and pulling him from the edge.

I didn’t beg for more time, I didn’t plead to come out of this alive. I knew it was over, and that I’d be nothing but a cold corpse on the ground soon. Still, I couldn’t help but selfishly wish to see his coal eyes again, to tell him as I lay dying that I was his, forever. That even though he was never mine, it was alright. I could feel myself getting numb, and with the last gasping breath I could manage, I called out his name. He never appeared, like the heros do in story books, and I wasn’t really expecting him to, but being able to die with his name on my lips was almost as comforting as the feeling of nothingness, taking over my conscious mind.

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Aftermath - Roy Mustang

I had a horrible nightmare. I’d pushed my best friend away before we kissed, and it’d have been the last time we ever got the chance. Then I blacked out, only to wake up and find that the nightmare was still continuing. He was dead, and he’d died alone, with my name on his lips. As the crying child next to me continued with her wailing, and I looked at the pine box they piled dirt upon, I reminded myself it wasn’t a nightmare. I don’t know if my name was on his lips, but it’s what I’d like to believe. I do know he died, cold and alone, murdered. If I hadn’t pushed him away, he’d have stayed in my office, he’d have been safe.

I kept my stone cold gaze on the dirt that piled up, poring pieces of myself on top of the grave as they went along, hoping my face was as cold as I wanted it to be. As the numbers dwindled down, and people started leaving, I stayed, Riza right by my side. Gracia put her hand on my shoulder before she left, and whispered an apology in my ear. She’d always known. I knew she knew. She knew I knew. We never once spoke about it, but came to a silent agreement to always protect him. Never once did I think I’d owe that woman an apology, but now I feel the desperate need to cry on he shoulder, and beg her forgiveness for breaking our deal.

Riza was still there when I couldn’t hold myself in anymore, and tears slid down my cheeks. “It’s raining.” I said softly, and she nodded in agreement, though I wasn’t really paying attention to her. I looked up for a moment. Almost sunset. In this world, I needed to feel safe. I had the feeling that those few moments of solace were all I was going to get, now that the fresh dug dirt in front of me represented the end of the line. Yeah, I needed the sunset.

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Goodbye

In the end, sleep comes easy. Reality never hits you that first night, and the closer you are, the longer it takes. Roy Mustang was worn out, but the only way he was getting to sleep, was a bottle of tequila. The empty bottle lay on the floor, having rolled free from the now loose grip of the colonial’s fingers, as he slid into a state of inebriated oblivion. Normally, he wouldn’t have dreams after drinking himself to sleep, especially after measures that were so extreme, but tonight, he’d see the face of his best friend once again.

Through the darkness, Roy’s conscious mind made out a shape. Maes Hughes stood before him, wearing a white suit, in odd compliance to the Christian version of Heaven. He leaned in and took his black haired lover by the shoulders, kissing him firmly but chastely on the lips, as he hadn’t done before he died. He pulled away from a stupefied and crying Roy, who sunk to his knees.

“Please. I can’t do this without you. You were supposed to be here, to push me to the top, remember?” Roy hung his head in shame of his own voice, so needy and horse to Maes, to the one man he never wanted to show weakness to again.

“Roy. I belong to you.” His form shifted, and Maes was on one knee before Roy, taking the other man into his embrace, stroking his hair. A confused mumble made it’s way through the colonial’s dry throat before he pulled back to stair in curiosity.

“W-what?”

“I belong to you. I always belonged to you. It was all I ever wanted you to know. Now, all I want you to do is stand with your head high. Live through the pain, and climb to the top. Not just for yourself anymore, Roy.” The man managed a nod before he was pulled into an embrace once more, feeling Maes disappear in his grasp.

~

Shooting up, face stained with tears and eyes bloodshot from the liquor and memories, Roy Mustang let out a dry sob, just able to make out his friends name in his painfully restricted throat. The dream had been so vivid. Maes belonged to him? Had it been more then the selfish want of a man so obsessed with his best friend he was willing to break the holy ties that bonded him to the family he’d chosen, or was it simply that? Something told Roy he hadn’t been dreaming, and something hard that poked him in the leg seemingly proved it. Pulling out a folded piece of paper, the tears came in fresh torrents.

Roy,

How long has it been since I wrote you a note like this? Since we were kids, wasn’t it last? It makes me feel like a chicken, like a pitiful little mouse in stead of a man, writing this to you. I can’t think of a better way to bring things closed circle though, then the way that they started. I’m probably kissing you now, the way I always have. The way I know you always liked. It’s the last time we’ll kiss. No, it’s not a break up, you’re not getting rid of me that easily. I just don’t know how much longer I can stand and kiss you under false pretenses.

When was the last time we sat down and really talked? Ishbal, wasn’t it? I can live without talking, though it doesn’t seem like it sometimes, but without talking to you in depth the way we always had, I feel like we’re both missing something. So I wussed out and wrote you this letter, explaining one thing.

I belong to you.

I have since the first time we had sex, since the first time you smiled at me with your entire heart in it, since the first time I herd you whisper you loved me in your sleep afterwards. My entire heart and soul belong to you, in a place no one has been able to touch. I’m married, and I love my wife and daughter with all my heart, but were I to die tomorrow, it’d be with your name on my lips.

Please, don’t cry, Roy. I always hated seeing you cry, it felt like my heart was torn with every tear. I propose this: No more sex, no more touching, no more hidden glances and stolen smiles. We can’t keep doing this with me so hopelessly hung up over you. You never belonged to me, I could see it in the way you looked at me the last time we were together. The pain in your eyes as I walked through the door, everything between and when I left. You can’t take it anymore, and my heart can’t take the silent screaming you think I can’t hear.

Forever, Roy. Remember that. Even when I’m dead and gone, and it seems only dust remains, a piece of me will always be with you. Until the sunset, when we’ll be together again.


Always,

Maes Hughes


There was nothing that could rival that kind of pain, when you realized you were too late to keep a good thing from falling. Roy felt his heart shatter in his chest, and he started choking on dry sobs. Barley making it to the bathroom, the black haired man vomited until there was nothing left in his system to push back up, his knuckles turning white on the side of the bowl from his harsh grip. He stayed that way until morning, tears still rushing down his cheeks in torrents.

All day that day, Roy stayed close to the bathroom. He could barley walk, and talking was out of the question. Strangely though, by the end of the day, when the sun started setting, Roy was able to make his way out side. He sat on a bench in the park, unsure of how he’d made it there, a Styrofoam cup of hot coffee clutched in his hands as the beautiful sunset took him over. Breathing in deep, the man let out a sigh, his eyes closing as a warm feeling filled his numb frame. A pair of regular blue pants and a white shirt made him feel more relaxed, and he let himself be carried away.

You were wrong. The only thing missing was our courage, to say something-anything. I suppose it’s too late now, and this is our last sunset. Goodbye, Maes.