Accustomed to Comfort

Disclaimer: My name is Anemone. I love steamed vegetables, and I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Dedicated to Sly-sama and her love of my dark fluff.

AN: When you watch FMA as much as I do, it's not shocking that this happens.

Bright orange light surrounded him. Flames curled around the walls of the hut and lapped at the ceiling. Heat blasted through the doorway, and he leaned back as it blew around him.

Dark eyes traced the path of the fire as it ate away at the small hut which housed the Isbalan people that the state deemed threats. The orders he had been given tumbled around in his head; "Annihilate all of Ishbal." During his time in the country, he hadn't witnessed anything that would constitute a threat to Amestris, but he could not disobey orders.

A soft whimper reached his ears. There was a small corner of the hut that flames had yet to brush. Coal eyes caught sight of a huddled form. Slowly, he raised a gloved hand and his eyes brimmed with tears as a snap echoed through the air, sending a well-aimed spark toward the flameless corner.

Honey eyes snapped open as he felt the sheets pull away inviting the cool breeze to play on his bare chest. Sleepily, he raised his head from the over-fluffed pillow to take in the man next to him. His lover was tangled in white sheets, fingers laced in raven locks and terror induced sweat slicked the skin of his boyish face.

Sitting up, his lips pulled into a frown. He recognized the telltale signs of the nightmare, and he moved to hover over the older male as the small whimpers escaped slightly parted lips and tears spilled from closed eyes. Fingers brushed away the raven locks that were clinging to the perspiring forehead. Gently untangling the man's fingers from his dark locks, the boy leaned down to place soft lips at the other's ear.

"Colonel," he said softly.

The man just shivered in fear and dug teeth into his bottom lip.

"Mustang," the youth tried again, blond locks falling forward and brushing the man's face.

The Colonel gave a slight stir and mumbled an "I'm sorry," before falling back into the depths of the memories of wartime.

"Roy!" This time, the boy's voice was desperate, a plea for the older male to come to awareness.

This time, Colonel Roy Mustang gave a slight jerk, the beginnings of his "I will rise to a point where I will not have to follow unreasonable orders" speech started to tumble from his lips.

"Bastard," the amber eyed teen resorted to the only name left in his arsenal to awaken his older lover.

Slowly, onyx eyes cracked open. Sleep-clumsy fingers came up to wipe away the grit of sleep and the salty tears. "Hey there, Fullmetal." A cool voice poured from previously whimpering lips.

"It was the nightmare again," Edward stated matter-of-factly. Honey golden eyes were filled with concern.

"Yeah, that damned war…" Roy's sentence drifted as his eyes strayed to the window across the room. Moonbeams played across freshly polished hardwood and danced around light blue walls. His eyes locked onto the falling raindrops that pelted the glass of the large bay window, and he scowled in distaste. "That's just what I wanted to wake up to."

With a sigh, Edward got up and walked to the other side of the room pulling the blinds over the window in one fluid motion. "Better?" He asked, eying the still shaken man.

"Slightly," Roy affirmed as the boy climbed back into the king-size bed and draped himself over his commanding officer.

Without really thinking, Edward's lips met Roy's soft and pliable ones. Slowly, he felt the older man relax as his tongue swept soft skin, licking away the salty tears that managed to escape swiping fingers. He didn't try to stop the slight grinding motion his hips made as Roy opened his mouth and deepened the kiss.

Onyx eyes widened in wonder as the boy managed to once again quell his fears with his presence alone. He felt the tension drain from his muscles and he wrapped his arms around the younger male, fingers gliding through wavy blond locks. With a jolt, as warm fingers splayed over muscles and traced battle scars, he realized he had become accustomed to the other's comfort.

It surprised him, really. He had vowed long ago not to let anyone get too close. 'But Edward isn't just anyone, now is he? He knows the sins I committed in Ishbal, accepts them and understands how to extinguish the pain when it flairs.'

Maybe it was because Edward had also walked the path of the damned. Maybe it was because he too had stared death in the face, watched as friends and loved ones suffered around him. Whatever the reason, the boy knew just how to lessen the pain, and that is what Roy had grown accustomed to.

The End!

AN: What do you think, should I write more of them?