Ed and roy have a mission, end up staying in the same hotel room, neither end up sleeping and they talk and it's cute.

That's a good summary right there.

xxx

Whumptober should be a religion, it's just that good.

Today's prompt: insomnia

xxx

Ed dragged his suitcase into the room with both hands, swinging the door shut with his foot. He was exhausted. There wasn't a bone in his body that didn't ache with the tiredness he felt all the way deep down into his hell-condemned soul. Glancing over, he could see that Mustang was in a similar state; he had haphazardly left his suitcase in the middle of the hotel room and was spread, face-up and fully clothed, across one of the small twin beds. Following suit, Edward dropped his suitcase next to the door with a loud thunk! and stumbled over to his bed, eager just to be able to sit down.

It had been an insane week. He had been pulled into a case to hunt down some federal threat, a case that turned into working long hours that then turned into all-nighters in the office that then turned into a stakeout that consisted of spending a few days in a cramped car with his favorite Colonel. Their team had finally caught the man and they were released to leave at around two in the morning. Both he and the Colonel decided it best to crash at a hotel instead of making the long, two-hour journey back home as neither had the brain capacity to make the drive without crashing the car and probably killing the both of them.

Edward flopped onto the bed face-down, letting out a long breath at the relief it gave him.

He heard Roy shifting on the bed next to him. "Are you taking a shower, Fullmetal?" His voice was tired and rough, much more than the young alchemist had ever heard.

Still lying on his stomach, Ed shook his head before remembering that Mustang wasn't looking at him. "No," came his muffled reply. "Are you?"

"No."

There were a few minutes of exhausted silence before Ed spoke up again. "Turn the lights off."

"You do it."

Ed groaned in response, so tired that he didn't think he could do anything else. So he continued to lay there, relaxing into the soft mattress.

But then it hit him.

He had totally forgotten about it until that instance, but the second he remembered he knew he wouldn't be getting any sleep that night.

He had forgotten that he was extremely prone to nightmares when he was sleep-deprived. Just the thought filled his chest with a nervous energy. Being afraid to sleep on top of not wanting his superior officer to witness his night terrors just made the situation exponentially worse. if he was will Alphonse right then, he wouldn't have been so worried and anxious. But this was a rare case; he was with the Colonel and he had gotten no decent sleep in a week.

It was honestly a train wreck.

He groaned again, not even caring if the Colonel heard him, rolling over onto his back and throwing his arms out. There was no way he was getting any sleep. He was too nervous not only about the nightmares he was bound to have but also that Mustang would witness it.

Edward didn't even know how long he had been laying there, staring up at the shaking, turning ceiling fan before a voice startled him from his thoughts.

"Are you still awake, Fullmetal?" It was a rough whisper that made him start. He had assumed the man had fallen asleep a long time ago.

Edward cleared his throat, pretending he hadn't just been startled by a simple question and answered. "Yeah."

"Are you going to be getting any sleep tonight?"

What kind of question is that?

After a few seconds, he drawled a cautious "No."

"Do you want some coffee?"

Ed cocked an eyebrow, propping himself up on his elbow. That actually sounded pretty great. But how did Mustang know? "Yeah, actually," he sighed, running his flesh hand over his eyes.

He looked up to see Roy sitting up and stretching, hair tousled and face dusted with stubble. He sighed and stood, crossing to the small built-in kitchen and digging around for the complimentary coffee and mugs. Pulling a large glass pot from one of the cabinets, he busied himself with making the beverage, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white shirt. Ed watched from the bed, sitting up and scrubbing at the back of his head, entranced. The situation had a subtle, kind of aesthetic beauty to it. The sounds of mugs clinking, the faint aroma of black coffee, messy charcoal hair and unshaven face, clothes casually wrinkled, the tired, comfortable haze of a sleepless night. It was euphoric.

Edward was broken from the daze as a mug of steaming coffee was being held out in front of him, which he gratefully took, cupping it with both hands. He took a long, deep drink. It tasted like rich chestnuts with a cheap, bitter undertaste, staying true to its cheap-hotel nature. Letting the steam from the mug drift up to warm his face, he spoke. "I expected you to be out cold the moment we got here, Mustang."

Roy chuckled bitterly, lowering his own mug from his pink lips. "Trust me, I thought the same." Edward cocked an eyebrow, taking another drink, waiting for an explanation. The Colonel sighed and lowered himself into one of the cheap kitchen chairs behind him. "I'm so exhausted that my brain must have forgotten how to sleep."

Ed huffed a silent laugh and hummed in confirmation. "I thought a prestigious bastard such as your self would have better control over his own body," he prodded, tone not as bitter as it usually was.

"And I thought a short brat such as yourself would know where his place was," Roy countered. He didn't look angry, though, just relaxed and fond. "And don't you go being a hypocrite. You're still awake at this hour, too."

"Yeah, well," the blond sighed, "Some things you can't help."

"See what I'm saying, Fullmetal? Hypocritical."

"Whatever." Edward rolled his eyes and smirked, nursing at his drink again. Although he didn't want to admit it, Roy was a nice presence to have around at such times as these. His persona fit the calming vibe of it all and honestly, it all made Ed feel more relaxed than he had all week. Sure, most of the time the man was a pain in the ass, but he wasn't all terrible. It just depended on the situation. But right then, along with the smell of coffee and the constant soothing woosh of the overhead fan, Mustang's charisma was a nice bonus that gave him a kind of ease that he didn't know he could feel.

So he closed his eyes, took a deep gulp of his coffee, and relished the moment.

Maybe the night wasn't going to be so terrible after all.

I
LOVE
PARENTAL
ROYED
MORE
THAN
I
LOVE
MYSELF

OMG

If you liked this story, be sure to check out my other Whumptober one-shots!

Thanks for reading, stay spooky everyone.