Edward lifted a skeptical brow, but Riza just stared at him seriously. She has to be joking, he thought. She was waiting for an answer, though it was clear she expected a yes.

"Th-the Fuhrer hosts a New Years Party?" he asked incredulously. The lieutenant nodded, mystified as to why Edward was so shocked. "And Colonel Mustang not only goes himself but requires all his men to go?" Again, a nod. Edward frowned.

"That's just ridiculous. Why would I go to this party at the Fuhrer's house?" Her brows raised slightly.

"Because the Colonel told you to?" she suggested. "Besides, the Fuhrer invites everyone, but he expects certain people to be there – including the Colonel – and if Mustang's going to suffer through it, he's going to make sure the rest of us do, too."

"And this happens every year?"

"Yes." The Fullmetal Alchemist sighed heavily, rubbing his forehead.

"Fine."

"Oh, and Al can't go. He's not in the military, therefore he's not invited." Edward frowned and crossed his arms. This New Years was going to suck.

"Whatever. I guess I don't have much of a choice, do I?"

"No, I don't think you do. Anyways, You have to be there at nine PM tomorrow. Try not to be too late."

"Alright. See you then, I guess." The First Lieutenant saluted and then walked off. Edward frowned deeply and headed out of the office as well. Usually, he and Al went down to visit Winry and Granny for New Years. In fact, he'd already gotten them tickets for the first train down that morning, but it looks like only Al would be going. Figures the Colonel would even find a way to ruin his vacation time.

Nine PM the next day:

The Fuhrer's manor practically glowed with light. Every window gleamed a warm gold and lights graced its proud exterior. The Fuhrer himself stood at the open door to greet people with a warm smile, for once not in uniform. To be honest, Edward found it more than a little disconcerting. Normally, Bradley was a stern man. The image of him, dressed in a suit, grinning and greeting people like a social butterfly was just…strange.

"Ah! The Fullmetal Alchemist!" he greeted Edward, seizing his hand and shaking it. "Welcome, Major Elric."

"Th-thanks," the teen muttered, pulling his hand away perhaps too quickly. He seemed too disarming.

"It's a pleasure to have you," the Fuhrer replied. "Please, go in an enjoy yourself!" Edward stepped into the manor. The contrast of heat to the biting chill of the night made his ears sting and his metal joints ache a little. Unsure of what to wear, he'd dressed as he usually did. Now, he felt horribly out of place. Everyone else was not only older than him but also dressed up. His eyes scanned the crowd, searching for someone he knew. Perhaps Havoc or Breda. Hell, he'd even settle for tagging along with Fuery.

"I'm glad to see you got the memo," a smoky voice behind him drawled. The blonde turned, lips parting to snap some snide remark to the Colonel for ruining his chance to go home, but the words never emerged. Mustang was dressed in a black, tailored suit – of course, logically, it made sense that he was dressed up; everyone else was, after all, but he'd never seen the Colonel so…well…fancy. Normally, Mustang went for the sort of rugged look, but now, his hair was slicked back, his clothes were pristine and hugging his form slightly. Edward had never noticed how long and slender his commanding officer's legs were… "You know, it's not polite to stare, Fullmetal, and you should close your mouth before you start to drool," Mustang teased, a wicked smirk curling his lip. Edward looked away, scoffing. What was I just thinking? He criticized inwardly.

"I was just shocked to see you out of your uniform," he muttered. "And, you know, looking like you actually care what you look like."

"Well, it is a formal event. It's only appropriate to dress up." The comment was accompanied by a casual glance down Edward's form. "Which it seems you forgot to do." Now, the boy flushed and looked away.

"Whatever, I just didn't know what else to wear."

"Oh, Fullmetal," the second person that Edward didn't actually want to run into commented, coming up beside Mustang. Riza was wearing a dress – a periwinkle, sparkly dress with only one sleeve. Ed shook his head, amazed. He half-expected to see the lieutenant in her uniform, still. "Don't look so shocked. I came escorting Mustang, so I had to dress appropriately."

"Y-you're escorting Mustang?" Edward asked.

"Not as a date, just as a guest. It's common enough. I'm glad you showed up, actually. This is a good time to learn a little about office politics."

"I'm not interested in office politics," the Fullmetal Alchemist replied, shrugging. "I'm just here because you said I didn't have a choice. Now, how soon do I get to leave?"

"You can't leave until at least one o'clock," Mustang informed him.

"What?! What am I going to do for that long?" Edward demanded.

"Socialize. Meet new people. Get something to eat and drink – but don't touch the alcohol. You're still a minor, after all."

"You're not my dad, you know." And with that, the blond turned and walked off, huffing slightly. Mustang watched him go, shaking his head in amusement.

"Typical that he'd come dressed as he usual is…" the colonel muttered. A small smile touched his lips. "I suppose that's part of what makes him who he is."

"Dressing casually?" Riza asked.

"Flaunting his disregard for social convention." They watched as Edward made his way through the crowd to the buffet table, where he got a plate of food before heading over to a corner to eat alone. "Figures he'd actually be a loner…"

"You care to go join him, sir?"

"No, no. I've got people to talk to before I get some to eat and drink. You're dismissed, for now, so…run along and enjoy yourself." The first lieutenant grimaced.

"You know I like parties about as much as you do, sir. They're a security nightmare, and I've only got two guns on me…it's unsettling."

"Well, misery loves company, but I'll only keep you here until midnight. I can walk home, so there's no need for you to stick around to drive me."

"Thank you, sir. I may just take you up on that offer." He chuckled, knowing that, as usual, she would take the earliest moment she could to flee the party. The two of them split up to mingle in the crowd.

Edward sighed heavily, eyes scanning the crowd. He felt out of place and incredibly bored. Seriously, what was the point of this party, anyways? He had left his little corner only to wander the outskirts of the party, hands shoved deep into his pockets. This totally sucks, he thought. Around this time he and Winry and Al and Granny would be sitting around the table, sipping hot chocolate and eating cookies and chatting. He would loosen up and go along with Winry's jokes just to humor her, this once. He sighed wistfully. In the past, he'd always brushed off the holiday gathering as a necessary event that he always sort of tolerated. Now, he thought he'd have given anything to be there. I wonder how they're doing without me…he wondered absently. Do they miss me at all? He frowned. Probably not…I mean, they probably are just all relaxing, having fun. His frown deepened. While I'm stuck here. I swear, I'm gonna kick that colonel's butt for this. This is my vacation time!

"Why th' long face?" Havoc asked, approaching him. His voice was slightly slurred and his cheeks rosy. Figures he'd get drunk, Edward noted.

"Nothing. I just…have plans this time of year."

"Yeah…I did, too…'fore I started working for th' Colonel. Y'know, I'd take my girlfriend out. Somewhere nice, y'know?"

"We used to go visit Granny and Winry…like a real family."

"I think th; Colonel jus' likes makin' the rest of us suffer 'cause he's gotta come to this thing…"

"I know. I think so, too."

"Ooh, ooh…they're gonna start the countdown soon." Havoc winked at Edward. "I'm gonna kiss Hawkeye." Then, he sauntered off. The Fullmetal Alchemist rolled his eyes and went to find some corner to hide in. Suddenly, a hand grabbed him and yanked him into…a closet? The door shut, encapsulating him in complete darkness, but before he could fight his attacker, a gloved finger was being held to his lips.

"Shhh…jus' me, Fullmetal," Mustang whispered, his hot breath washing over the boy's cheek. Edward scowled as he smelled the strong scent of whiskey.

"Is everyone here other than me freaking drunk?!" he demanded hotly.

"Yes," came the breathy reply. "Keep yer voice down."

"Why? Let go of me!"

"Shhh…no, no. Stay here."

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Too much…can't talk to people…like this. Might say something…dangerous."

"Yeah, so why the hell are you talking to me?" Edward found himself hissing under his breath, though he didn't really know why he wasn't just smacking the man and leaving. In his inebriated state, it was unlikely the Flame Alchemist could keep him there against his will.

"Cuz I can trust you."

"No you can't, because right now I want nothing more than to beat you up, bastard." Suddenly, Mustang's lips were right by his ear, brushing against his lobe when he spoke.

"I love it when you get angry…"

"Wh-what the hell?!" The teen found himself being pushed into a bunch of coats, pinned against the wall with a surprising amount of strength, for a drunk guy.

"Oh, they're counting already," the older man whispered. Outside the closet, Edward could hear the shouted, "Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…" He swallowed hard. Wasn't it a tradition to kiss at the end of the counting? That was something he'd never done, but…well, no way would Mustang actually kiss him, right? "Three…" the colonel breathed. "Two…one." A hot, insistent pair of lips crashed onto his own. Edward let out a muffled squeak of surprise. He could dimly hear people cheering outside, but everything seemed to slow down and quiet against the soft, massaging pressure of his commanding officer's lips against his own. The colonel had one arm wrapped around his waist and the other cupping his jaw, pulling him closer. The kiss seemed to simultaneously only last a second and an eternity. And then it was over and Edward could feel Mustang's breath fluttering on his dampened mouth. That was when it caught up to him what had just happened. He flushed and clapped a hand over his mouth. That was my first kiss?! He thought. The hand on his jaw pulled away and he heard a snap before a small flame came to hover over Mustang's fingers.

"What was that for?!" the teen demanded, finally finding his voice.

"Shhh, there are so many better uses for your adorable, little mouth than yelling at me, right now."

"You're drunk."

"Completely smashed."

"You…ahem…kissed me."

"And you liked it." Edward was speechless with shock, though he honestly couldn't really contradict the statement – not that he would ever admit that.

"D-did not," he protested much more weakly than he'd meant to.

"Then why is your heart beating so fast? I saw the way you were staring at me earlier." The black-haired man smirked. "Maybe…this is as much a revelation for you…as it was for me." Edward swallowed hard. Now that he could actually see Mustang, it was much harder to talk to him. A few strands of hair hand come out of place, and his shirt and jacket were a little rumpled. His cheeks were flushed slightly and his eyes a little unfocused from the whiskey.

"That's it. I'm taking you home." Summoning his courage and hoping no one would notice them coming out of the closet together – that would've been hard to explain – Edward opened the door and pulled Mustang out. To his utter relief, Mustang had been right when he said everyone was drunk, and no one was really paying attention to them. The colonel allowed him to lead him across the room to the door.

"Leaving so soon?" the Fuhrer asked, surprisingly sober.

"Yeah, this idiot's had too much to drink so I just want to make sure he gets home without killing himself," Edward replied when Mustang said nothing. With that, the teen dragged his superior officer off. "Why didn't you say anything?" he demanded as they trudged down the snow-covered road.

"I was afraid of what might come out of my mouth." The boy scowled.

"You're useless," he grumbled.

"You don't mean that," Mustang replied, his fingers tightening around the automail hand. The blonde rolled his eyes. There was no point in arguing with the colonel. "So adorable."

"What did you just call me?!"

"I said you're absolutely adorable."

"I'm not a kid, you know!" Silence. Edward glanced back at the man, who was just staring at him pensively. He scoffed and quickened his pace. The two of them went into Mustang's apartment building and practically jogged up the three flights of stairs to his apartment.

"Slow down…making my head hurt," Mustang muttered, a comment which was ignored by the young major.

"Keys?" Edward asked, holding out his hand. The colonel frowned and began to fumble around for them, patting his pockets until they finally found them. The Fullmetal Alchemist took them and unlocked the door, letting the both of them in. Mustang shrugged out of his suit jacket and shuffled to his room. Edward followed him awkwardly. I guess I'll just make sure he gets into bed okay, he thought. He looks kind of…helpless, right now. Mustang began to try to remove his shirt, fumbling with the buttons and failing miserably. The teen chuckled and moved forward to do it for him.

"Ed…" the black-haired man breathed. "Y-your knuckles keep skimming my chest…turning me on. Especially the automail…"

"Sh-shut up! I'm just taking care of you because you're drunk!" Suddenly, Mustang captured his hands, drawing him closer.

"Then you should take care of me properly." To emphasize his point, he lowered the boy's hands to the bulge growing in his pants. Edward gasped and yanked away.

"Hell, no!" The older man pouted slightly.

"You're just going to leave me like this?"

"Yes!"

"But…don't you want me, too?" The teen prodigy was struck mute with shock at the simply-put, honest question. His mouth opened and shut silently as his mind grappled for words. Mustang now removed his gloves and tossed them aside, his bare hands coming up to caress the boy's cheeks. "Please don't say you feel nothing…not when my heart is pounding like this." Inside, the boy was panicking, even as one hand captured his own – the flesh one – and pressed it to the man's bare chest. He could feel the man's pulse, beating a rapid tattoo against his fingertips. Edward swallowed hard and tried to look away, but Mustang's hand on his cheek wouldn't let him. "Say something!"

"I…I…You're drunk. You don't mean any of this, so I'm just going to walk away and pretend like none of this ever happened, and then everything will return to normal." Apparently, that was the wrong answer, because Mustang's mouth came crashing down on his a second later, and a tongue forced its way into his mouth. Edward gasped, but found himself whimpering into the kiss, anyways. Everything was getting muddled and confused in his head, and he couldn't concentrate on one thought long enough to think it all the way through. Why is his mouth so goddam distracting? He mused hazily. Mustang pulled away, panting.

"I'm drunk, but I'm not lying," he whispered.

"What do you want me to say?!" the teen demanded, more than a little distressed.

"The truth! Do you feel anything?"

"And if I say no?"

"You're lying!"

"Then why are you even asking?"

"I…I want…need to hear you say it…just once." The flustered boy felt like he was about to cry. He was so confused, and he couldn't think straight after the fiery kiss he'd just received. "Edward…tell me how you feel." The boy swallowed hard, staring into those once-piercing eyes, now clouded with alcohol and lust. His commanding officer looked desperate, staring anxiously at him as if these next words would determine his fate.

"I…I do-don't know," Edward replied hesitantly, but the totally defeated look on the other man's face spurred him to continue. "But wh-when I see you, I get so flustered, and when you smile at me, it makes me so ridiculously happy. When you touch me, it's like you're lighting me on fire. And when you k-kissed me…" he blushed but forced himself to continue. "When you kissed me, it felt…right. Bu-but I don't even know what I'm saying any more! I'm so confused and nothing comes out the way I think it will and-!" He was silenced by another kiss. Soft, this time – gentle.

"Thank you, Ed. That's just what I needed to hear." Edward blushed and gently propelled Mustang to the bed. The man sat down and let the boy take off his shoes for him.

"Get some sleep, Colonel. I'll see you when the break is over."

"Come tomorrow?"

"Can't. I've got a train ride to Risembool to catch in the morning." Mustang's face fell almost comically.

"Of course…you have a real family, after all." Edward felt a pang of guilt run through him. The man looked so lonely, even as now he offered him a small smile. "Have fun on your vacation." The alchemist prodigy pushed the other man down into the bed.

"Get some sleep…okay?"

"Yeah."

"Bye…Roy." He leaned down and brushed his lips shyly against the older man's. Mustang returned the gesture, just as sweetly.

"Bye Ed." Then, the teen went, got a glass of water and some pain pills from the kitchen and left them on the colonel's nightstand. He'd need them in the morning. With a small smile, he walked away.

Three days later:

Mustang glanced up as Edward came into his office. The boy was uncharacteristically shy, simply walking over to the couch and sitting down quietly, casting a furtive glance up at the colonel. Apparently Fullmetal had taken him home after the Fuhrer's party. He had been too drunk to remember a thing.

"Um…I just wanted to see if you needed me." Mustang lifted a brow. Edward rarely actually asked for more missions. "I mean, for a mission or whatever." Now the colonel frowned. What else could he have meant? A thought dawned upon him and horror struck through him. It was all he could do to keep his cool.

"I – ahem – I heard you walked me home after the Fuhrer's party."

"Yeah."

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

"N-no problem."

"Did something…weird happen?"

"Y-you don't remember anything?"

"No? Is there something I should have remembered?" Mustang asked with a growing sense of dread. Dammit, I swear, if I told Fullmetal that, I will never drink a drop of alcohol, again! He vowed. Meanwhile, a wave of relief washed over Edward. If he doesn't remember anything, then there's no reason to bring it up, right?

"No, sir. Nothing." Then, he smiled wickedly. "I've just never seen you stumble around like a drunk idiot before." Mustang was too relieved to be angry at the jibe.

"Well, I'm sorry you had to see me like that," he murmured. And right then and there, he made his New Year's Resolution: he would never tell Edward how he really felt. At the same moment, Edward was making his own resolution: he would never, ever tell Mustang what had really happened the night of the party.

Hehe, just a little one-shot. I couldn't write anything else until I got this one out of my head, so now that's done I can return to my other writings. Read and Review! :)