#hyuroi week

[all-the-wrong-lines]

Hyuroi week day 2: Rain

[maisstories]

You should try if you'd like!

I think I will. The event is some three weeks after the BB rough draft deadline, so I will probably appreciate a break from the BB story by then. I got an idea for one of the prompts that could be interesting to write :)

[vino-and-doggos]

In Defense of Valentine’s Day

Read on AO3

Length: 4628 words

Rated: Explicit

Status: Complete

Summary: “It’s a ridiculous Hallmark Holiday that the corporations made up to trick the masses into believing they need to buy cards and chocolate and jewelry to let their significant other know they enjoy their company.”

“While I can see and understand your point, what is wrong with a holiday that celebrates love and relationships? Valentine’s Day doesn’t feel like an obligation or work when you’re with the right person.”   

“Are you saying I’m the right person, Roy Mustang?”    

Roy’s cheeks flushed, but for the first time in this conversation, he had a good comeback. “I’m not sure. Are you willing to give my favorite holiday a shot?”

Written for @hyuroiweek​! I don’t know how else to say this, but @flourchildwrites​ is amazing and everyone should go give her some love. Especially on Valentine’s Day.

Warnings: There be smut here!!!

“I never really cared much for Valentine’s Day.”

Only eight words. And yet, that was all it took to rock Roy Mustang’s world. Who on earth didn’t like Valentine’s Day?

Maes Hughes was apparently the answer.

He pecked away at the laptop as if the matter-of-fact statement was the only argument that held any water, stopping only momentarily to adjust the slouched beanie covering his dark, spiky hair. Roy absentmindedly picked at the sleeve of his flannel shirt as a blush burned through his body.

As always, Roy was unwilling to to meet his boyfriend’s gaze before he had the best argument in his suave arsenal at the ready. Alas, nothing quippy came to mind, and Roy settled for his honest appraisal of the situation. Roy was an idealist at heart, a hopeless romantic, and Maes, the jaded hipster, was not.

“How can you not like Valentine’s Day?” Roy all but whined, defeated by his lack of cold, hard facts in defense of the holiday.

The hustle and bustle of the student union around them continued on as if Roy’s entire worldview hadn’t just been shattered - simply shattered. He finally had a boyfriend - in fact, they had been together since last May. Their relationship had started just as their junior year was ending. After making eyes at each other across the coffee shop they both took a break in on Tuesdays and Thursdays, Maes finally plucked up the courage to ask Roy out. Dates, kisses, and awkward fumblings that eventually led to good sex followed months later.

But was the relationship worth anything if said boyfriend didn’t like Roy’s absolute favorite holiday?

“Quite easily in fact,” Maes said. Peering over his glasses, his fingers stalled across the keyboard in front of him. Roy’s stricken face hovered over the cup of Starbucks he held in his hands, his notes and highlighters abandoned in the wake of the news he just received.

Maes continued, simply raising an eyebrow, almost looking completely unperturbed. “It’s a ridiculous Hallmark Holiday that the corporations made up to trick the masses into believing they need to buy cards and chocolate and jewelry to let their significant other know they enjoy their company.”

Roy gaped like a koi that hopped up on land for an afternoon stroll.

“That’s not even remotely the point!” he retorted.

“Ah, but it is, my beloved Roy,” he countered as he resumed typing, the clack of the keys lost in the drone of other students milling around them. “What is more meaningful? Flowers delivered on Valentine’s Day because your beloved felt they were required by a social contract? Or rather flowers delivered on a random Thursday because your beloved was thinking of you?”

Roy’s jaw clicked shut as he considered what his boyfriend said to him and quickly parried. “While I can see and understand your point, what is wrong with a holiday that celebrates love and relationships? Valentine’s Day doesn’t feel like an obligation or work when you’re with the right person.”

“Are you saying I’m the right person, Roy Mustang?”

Roy’s cheeks flushed, but for the first time in this conversation, he had a good comeback. “I’m not sure. Are you willing to give my favorite holiday a shot?”

Maes’s glasses flashed as he looked up from the words on his screen, light filtering in from the pretentious (in Roy’s opinion) skylights in the ceiling. He chuckled and raised his hands, surrendering. “Okay, okay, you win. What do you want to do for Valentine’s Day, lover boy?”

A gentle smile broke across Roy’s face. “Really, Maes, you break too easily. Criminal justice majors such as yourself need to have a little more backbone.”

“Oh, because chemistry majors know all about that, don’t they?” Maes laughed. “Seriously, Roy,” he continued, “what do you want to do? I’m yours on February the 14th.”

Roy gasped and dramatically put a hand to his chest. “But what about the other 364 days of the year?”

Maes shoved Roy’s hand down playfully, and behind his stylish glasses, Roy spotted the man he’d grown to love beneath all the cynicism and bravado. “All right, drama queen, you’ve made your point. But honestly, we can do whatever you please for Valentine’s Day.” A winning smirk crossed his face. “You might just change my mind about this corporate money grab.”

Roy walked across the snowy campus later that evening. The tree-lined campus seemed to come alive in the wind. Beautiful buildings, a delightful combination of red brick and grey shingles. The conical turrets of the administrative building on campus were Roy’s favorite part of campus. It made him think of Hogwarts, especially covered in crystals of ice and snow.

Some might have see a senior living on campus as a major drag. Roy saw it as an advantage, though. He still had a meal plan, meaning he never had to go grocery shopping, (just suffer through dining hall meals) and he was still close to the lab for experiments that needed babysitting into the late hours of the night.

The on-campus building that he lived in was furthest from the center of campus and was the nicest living space on campus. The dark brick that adorned the outside was a stark contrast to the light, almost sterile interior of the building. Hallways were painted a boring beige, accented with a slightly darker, low-pile carpet that was typical of the dorm buildings on campus.

Most importantly, though, in that building, he managed to have his own bedroom and only shared a bathroom with two other people. It was a strange combination of a suite-style dorm building and an apartment building. But that unusual set-up made the place one of the most desireable, and Roy was ecstatic to live there. It was worth the walk.

Roy’s mind rewound as he spied a group of prospective students and their parents touring the snowcapped halls of their quaint little university. Though it hadn’t been that long ago, he chuckled, breath visible in a wispy puff of white, as he took a turn down memory lane and turned his collar up against the wind. Why would they tour the campus during Winter, he thought. Was I that small as a freshman? But then, the setting sun caught his eye, and Roy remembered that there truly was beauty all around him. Winter sunsets were a favorite part of his walk; the bright pinks and reds tinged with purples and blues that reflected off of the snow filled him with a warmth that the chill in the air sought to seep from his body.

The color of the sky forced the upcoming holiday to the forefront of his mind. What on earth was he going to do to make this Valentine’s Day great? And ensure that Maes would celebrate it with him from then on out?

Grand plans with champagne and rose petals accompanied by classy dinner party music floated through Roy’s head. He walked dazedly past his favorite copse of sycamore trees whose leaves had abandoned their branches months prior - bare very much like his bank account. His work study job only did so much to help out with expenses. He hated relying on his foster mother for money and refused to text her for help on principle.

How could he give Maes the best Valentine’s Day of his life on the budget of a college senior?

Suddenly, the hazy clouds blocking the vestiges of the day’s sunlight parted in a gust of wind. Roy had an idea. It couldn’t fail, right?

February 14th arrived with as little pomp and circumstance of any other day. Roy awoke to birds chirping and smiled as the winter sun filtered around the school-issued, plastic, pathetic excuse for a window treatment.

Roy’s grin widened, and a sly glint filled his dark eyes. Today was the day.

Leisurely, he rolled over and grabbed his phone from the pillow beside him, pressing the button to unlock the screen. The clock read 7:28 a.m. - two whole minutes before his alarm was set to go off.

Bliss.

A minute later, he sent a simple message.

Roy Mustang, 07:29: Good morning. I love you <3

Wearing a content expression, equal parts eager and optimistic, he let his hand fall to his chest as he stared at the off-white ceiling. Roy’s musings were interrupted by the alarm on his phone signaling the end of his two minutes. He pushed himself up and out of bed, grabbing his shower caddy and keys and moving towards the shared bathroom.

Emerging from the shower, drops of water still clinging to his toned body, he carefully put away his bathroom accessories (less to put away later, he thought) he realized a text message had come through.

Maes Hughes, 07:42: Good morning, yourself, lover boy. Happy Hallmark Holiday! ;) Love you too, tho <3

Roy tapped away at the screen, shooting off a reply. As he was pulling on a shirt, he heard his phone buzz again.

Maes Hughes, 07:53: It is *too* a Hallmark Holiday, but for your sake I’ll drop it. And sure, I can meet you at 6 at your place. Where are we going?

Roy Mustang, 07:55: That’s for me to know and for you to be surprised with. Don’t you have class?

Maes Hughes, 07:55: It doesn’t start for another 5 mins. Hmm… Let me guess. We’re headed to The Devil’s Nest, right?

Roy Mustang, 07:57: Yup. You caught me. Only the finest $2 drink specials and loaded fries for my beloved.

Maes Hughes, 07:58: ...you know that actually sounds amazing, right? Like you recognize that I wouldn’t hate that? Roy Mustang, 07:58:

Roy Mustang, 07:59: Go to class, Maes

Maes Hughes, 08:00: LOVE YOU!

Roy felt like he was smiling quite a bit more than usual, especially for an early morning, and found himself doing it yet again as he pulled his coat on. He wound his knitted scarf (a wonderful Christmas gift from Riza) around his neck, checked his bag for his notes and keys, and then braved the deceptive sunshine to head to the lab.

The day passed with relative speed, which shocked Roy. Usually, when he begged the universe to let time move faster, it laughed in his face, and what felt like 2 hours was maybe 15 minutes. Today, it seemed the world was on his side.

Until that evening, however.

Roy’s classes wrapped up at 3:30 p.m, and he swung by the dining hall along the way back to his apartment. The dining services director, Sig, was a burly man with a soft spot for grand, romantic gestures. He had set aside two choice cuts of steak for Roy, and all he asked in return was that Roy spent a few night deep cleaning a few pieces of kitchen equipment over the next month. All in all, Roy considered it more than a fair trade. Oh, the things he would do for love!

He carried the package with a spring in his step. The paper-wrapped package swung jauntily from the twine holding it together, and Roy hummed a sappy love song that he had heard over the speaker system in the student union. However, walking on cloud nine was not without its perils, and the next thing he knew, the package was flying through the air, landing in a spot miraculously bare of snow. That didn’t mean it was free of mud, though.

Roy rushed over to the butcher paper and kneeled. “Please don’t be gross; please don’t be gross; please don’t be gross,” he muttered, gingerly picking up the paper. “Oh thank god,” he said as he realized that Sig wrapped the meat in plastic wrap before packing it in the butcher paper. Saying a silent thank you to who or what ever was listening, Roy gathered the plastic-wrapped steaks and began again toward his apartment.

Nodding curtly at a gaggle of girls exiting the apartment building who were eying him with disgust, he unthinkingly clasped the parcel to his chest as he reached for the door. His coat was mercifully open, so at least it wouldn’t need dry cleaned, but the liquid seeping from the plastic wrap and the mud on the scraps of paper mixed together. And whether it was the fault of mud or blood or some vengeful Valentine’s Day deity, one thing was absolutely certain: Roy’s shirt was ruined.

Cursing under his breath, he took the meat to the small, shared kitchen on the ground level. He forced himself to take a deep, cleansing breath. This was only a small hitch, after all. Some running water would help to get the remainder of the mud off. Breathe in; breathe out. And, truly, he was probably going to cook the meat to a temperature that would kill any bacteria that still decided to hitch a ride on their dinner. Breathe in; breathe out. This was a minor inconvenience. It would all be worth it.

Roy took the time to drizzle the steak in some olive oil and added some seasonings. He seared the two pieces and put them on a baking dish. Then, Roy haphazardly shoved his piece de resistance into the oven without a second glance at the recipe on his hopelessly cracked iPhone. How different is cooking than chemistry? he thought to himself triumphantly. Checking his phone, he wondered how it already got to be 5:15 and rushed upstairs set the scene.

He borrowed a small table from the common area and brought it into his room. Roy covered it with a spare sheet and produced a small shopping bag from his closet. Gingerly, he put the glass that was cut to look like expensive crystal taper holders in the center of the table. After some attempts at balancing, he managed to get the ivory candles into the holders, which contrasted nicely with the red sheet serving as a tablecloth, if he did say so himself. The only thing left to do was to light the candles.

He smiled at his handy work, knowing that it wasn’t the most romantic setting in the world, but also recognizing that he was doing exceptionally well with what he had. He stripped off his shirt and flicked through his closet, looking for a specific sweater… The royal blue top was Maes’s favorite of Roy’s clothing. According to Maes, the color was a really nice contrast between his dark hair and eyes, but it also was extremely soft, meaning it was comfortable for Roy to wear, but also exceptionally soft for Maes to cuddle with.

He could have sworn it was there, hanging towards the back with the rest of his sweaters. Pushing the hangers back, he pulled each one toward him individually to ensure he didn’t miss it.

Nothing.

Frustratedly, Roy growled, pulling a dark grey infantry sweater from the hanger and tugged it on instead. Now, he was going to have enough time to go back downstairs, check on the steak, start the sides, and -

A knock sounded at the door.

Roy ran his fingers through his hair, hoping to tame his locks somewhat after pulling the high-necked sweater over his head. He paced over and flung the door open, expecting it to be a neighbor, but instead he was met with familiar green eyes.

“Maes,” he breathed. “What are you doing here already?”

“What do you mean already?” the man at the door chuckled. “We said 6:00, didn’t we?”

“Sorry, I just didn’t realize the time,” Roy sheepishly apologized. “Come in, come in,” he rushed, stepping to the side and sweeping his arm into the room. It was hardly the first time that Maes had been in his dorm, but this felt significant somehow. Their first Valentine’s Day seemed to have some weight to it; was it because this was the time of the year that many proposals occured? Roy shook his head slightly to clear the clearly premature thoughts from his mind and took his boyfriend’s coat.

Maes, standing in the middle of the room, dressed smartly in a deep crimson sweater, looked at the items on the table and smirked at Roy. “I thought we were going out?”

“Ah,” Roy smiled back, as he made his way over to his open laptop on the desk, “You said that, not me. I just chose not to correct you. I’ll be your host, chef, and entertainment for the evening. I hope you don’t mind.” A few clicks later, a gentle jazz melody floated from the speakers, ensnaring both in its sensuous strains.

“Why on earth would I mind that, Roy?” His green eyes crinkled playfully as he crossed the room and closed the gap between them. Maes pressed his lips gently to his boyfriend’s forehead, and Roy tilted his chin up to capture his lips in a searing kiss.

Maes’s mouth parted, and Roy eagerly deepened the kiss, reaching up to tug on his cropped hair. The justice major chuckled and tenderly, yet insistently, pushed Roy against the door frame. A groan sounded from deep in someone’s throat - neither was quite sure whose - and suddenly hands were beneath shirts. It wasn’t the order that Mustang had planned for the night, but he was sure Maes wasn’t about to start complaining.

Just as Maes abandoned Roy’s lips and started seeking out purchase on his jawline and neck, the chemistry major managed to undo his boyfriend’s belt buckle. Roy felt the intake of breath against the skin where Maes had dampened with his mouth.

Roy chuckled darkly, letting his fingers linger over his lover’s length, and Maes shivered in kind. Let it not be said that Mustang didn’t know exactly what his boyfriend liked.

Roy sank down to his knees in front of Maes, wrestling with the button and fly of the designer jeans that fit his boyfriend oh-so-well. Happy to see that his ministrations were taking effect already, Roy began to salivate.

Freeing Maes’s member from the final layer of clothing and taking it in his mouth was transcendent every single time. There were so many things that Roy enjoyed when it came to sex with Maes, but the feeling of his mouth full and the little groan that met his ears sent jolts straight to his own groin.

As he worked the length of his lover, head bobbing somewhat in time with the music, Roy suddenly became aware of a faint buzzing noise. Normally his head didn’t start to buzz with pleasure until significantly later in their time together, but he chalked it up to a fat baby with a bow and arrow somewhere and continued his ministrations.

Maes murmured, “Roy,” and he hummed in return around the phallus in his mouth. Maes made a noise in the back of his throat and said it again.

“Roy.”

He wasn’t usually so talkative, but Roy was not about to start complaining.

“Roy.” This time with more urgency. Was he getting close already?

“I think your phone is ringing,” Maes said, his voice cracked and husky.

Oh. That would explain the buzzing.

He released Maes with a pop and smiled bashfully as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Roy kissed his boyfriend as he rose and awkwardly shuffled around the room to find where he tossed his cell phone upon entering.

“Do you see my phone?” he asked, moving pillows and the comforter around on the bed.

“Uh, no… But to be honest, I wasn’t looking too closely,” Hughes smiled in a placating manner. “Want me to call it?” Roy could tell that his boyfriend was tense after the abrupt halt but appreciated that Maes made himself look nonchalant.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Roy replied. “I don’t hear it buzzing anymore.”

After a few seconds, Maes found his pocket in his jeans and located his phone. Roy watched as the green-eyed man unlocked his pristine-screened iPhone, punched in his passcode, navigated to his favorites, and finally selected Roy’s name. Maes held the phone up to show he had dialed, and Roy saw a disgustingly cute picture of the two of them on New Year’s Eve. As Roy smiled at the memory, buzzing was heard throughout the small studio apartment once more.

It took Roy a few moments, but he finally found the offending phone. In the bottom of the closet. Under his favorite blue sweater that he could have sworn was not there earlier.

Shooting Maes a thank you glance, he woke the screen to see two missed calls and five text messages.

Jean Havoc, 18:08: Dude, is it you cooking something in the ground floor kitchen?

Missed Call: Jean Havoc, 18:09

Roy was almost positive his stomach dropped completely from his body, and he slid down the closet door frame to meet it on the floor. Scrolling down his notification center, he continued, sensing it was already too late.

Jean Havoc, 18:10: Seriously, Mustang, there’s something in the oven and I see smoke

Jean Havoc, 18:10: You know the temperature you set this oven at is like 25 degrees higher than normal ovens, right??

No, Jean, why the hell would I know that? You know as well as I do that no one uses that oven for anything, thought Roy frantically.

Missed Call: Jean Havoc, 18:11

Jean Havoc, 18:14: Yeah, I just pulled it out of the oven for you. You’re welcome.

Jean Havoc, 18:15: Dude, it looks like a charcoal brick. Bone app the teeth

“Fuck.” Roy whispered.

“So, is uh… is everything alright?” Maes asked, still in a state of undress, from across the room.

Roy felt his head drop backward and meet the door frame as his throat betrayed him. It suddenly became difficult to swallow around the lump he could feel in it.

“It’s fine,” he said in the cheeriest tone possible, hoping that Maes bought his story.

“Yeah, nothing about any of that said ‘I’m fine,’ Roy. What’s wrong?” He unceremoniously shoved himself back into his jeans and crossed the room to kneel down directly in front of Roy.

Mustang took a shuddering breath. “Really, I’m okay. I just… burnt dinner beyond anything recognizable.”

“Come on, Roy, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Maes scoffed. Roy leveled his eyes at him and turned the phone around. “Oh. That looks…well done?” he offered placatingly, only to receive another glare from Roy.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect for you. I got these really nice cuts of meat, and I set up nicely, but then I dropped the steak in the mud on the way here, and then I got stuff on my shirt, and then I lost track of time -” he cut off as Maes smiled at him.

“Roy. Look at me.” Dark eyes met bright green. “You didn’t have to do all this. I know I make a fuss about Valentine’s Day not being a special holiday or whatever, but any holiday that I spend with you is a special one. Steak and candlelight wasn’t going to be what made this special. It was you.”

A watery smile broke Roy’s face as he pulled Maes in for the tightest hug either had ever received.

“Now, what do you say we order in some ridiculously cheap take out to eat by candlelight?” Maes proposed.

Roy nodded as relief rushed over him. Not that he really thought Maes would be mad at all - Maes is a cynic, but he was never one that was quick to anger. The blue glow of Maes’s screen illuminated his glasses as he opened Grubhub to order something. Roy didn’t even know or care what he was ordering. Guilt wormed its way into his consciousness; this was supposed to be his night.

“Sorry,” he said softly.

“There’s no need to apologize, love,” came the gentle reply. “I’m sure you put a lot of time and effort into all this planning. But hey, the best laid plans of mice and men, right?”

Roy rolled his eyes at the old adage but chuckled nonetheless. “I did,” he replied honestly. “But now I’m starting to think I had the wrong idea all along.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. There is something way more appetizing in front of me right now that I fear I let get too cold.” A hungry fire lit in the depths of Roy’s dark eyes, and Maes smiled seductively.

“How long will it take for food to be delivered?” Hughes asked innocently.

Confused, Roy answered, “Typically a half an hour, but being Valentine’s Day probably closer to an hour… why?”

“Go ahead and order it now, then,” Maes instructed. “We can work up an appetite while we wait for it to get here.”

Blush blossomed on Roy’s face as he realized the implication of Maes’s words. He allowed his boyfriend to place a series of gentle kisses all along his face and neck while attempting to order their food, only to immediately capture his lips after hanging up.

Almost immediately, the two were shirtless as they moved together towards the bed.

This really is the best Valentine’s Day ever, thought Roy as the sound of a zipper followed by the feeling of a searing heat enveloped his length. Maes hummed appreciatively. White flooded his vision as Maes’s throat vibrated around Roy’s cock. And soon the buzzing seeped through Roy’s body in the form of twitching muscles and quickened breath. Roy’s mind reeled from the pleasure. With an obscene pop, Maes released him from his mouth and the cool air pricked against his heated skin.

Both men groaned as Maes crawled up Roy’s body, peppering it with open-mouthed kisses before finally meeting his mouth again in a passionate kiss. Maes reached confidently into the night stand for the lube that he knew Roy kept there and triumphantly pulled his spoils from the drawer.

He warmed the slick on his hands and proceeded to slip one finger inside of Roy, followed quickly by a second. Roy sighed appreciatively, relishing in the sensation. Using his two fingers, he confidently opened up his lover, reaching his head down and caressing his lips with his tongue. Roy panted as Maes just barely touched that magical spot within him. Maes chuckled.

He also knew exactly what his boyfriend liked.

A third finger. A sigh. A moan. A plea.

The snick of the lube cap opening again was lost to Roy in his pleasure, until he felt the head of Maes pushing against his entrance. Eager, yet willing himself to relax, he reveled in the moment.

There was none other like it.

He felt his body adjust and nodded, feeling Maes’s pulse from a place deep within him. He keened as Maes thrusted for the first time, impaling Roy to both of their delight.

The give and take from Maes felt wondrous. And Roy, full to the brim, saw stars as Maes thrust a fourth or fifth time. It was pointless to keep count. Maes’s large, soft palms wrapped around his cock, stroking faster as both lovers fell to pieces in the other’s arms. Roy was seeing stars. Reduced to an inarticulate mess, he wasted no time at all in allowing Maes to see just exactly how thoroughly he was being fucked.

White splattered their stomachs, Roy gasping and Maes whispering “I love you” as his member was gripped and released in the vice that was his boyfriend. Maes toppled over the edge three short thrusts later.

Lying together in a tangled mess of limbs, panting and sated, Maes smiled.

Roy’s head was comfortably nestled underneath Maes’s chin, basking in the afterglow. He felt Maes give him a gentle squeeze, his biceps cradling Roy’s body.

“I think I like Valentine’s Day.”

[flameleads]

RELATIONSHIPS  — TALK ABOUT THE MUSE

NAME: Roy Owen Mustang

ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: Pansexual demiromantic. What that means is Roy generally physically attracted to people of all genders. However, when it comes to romantic attraction, he needs that emotional bond to happen before anything else.

PREFERRED PET NAMES: He doesn’t have many preferences. If he’s in public with his partner, he does prefer pet names that are for public consumption. Taking the time to give him a pet name, even if it’s a common or generic one, makes him smile, though, because it shows his partner’s thinking of him. As for using pet names for his partner, it’ll take him a while to start using them considering he needs to warm up to using first names.

RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Verse dependent, and this blog is multiship.

FAVOURITE CANON SHIP: I am most certainly a Royai shipper, and it’s one of my ride or die ships of all time. Hyuroi is also one of my big ships, even if it’s one-sided or unrequited. Then, you have me shipping Roy with Olivier, Alex, Jean, Kain, Kimblee, and more (characters who are not minors).

FAVOURITE NON-CANON SHIP: All of them, okay? I love how all of them have developed over time. Don’t ask me to pick just one.

OPINION ON TRUE LOVE: It’s definitely real. Will it happen for him? He’s not sure. He has a country to fix.

OPINION ON LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: Only in books and films.

HOW ROMANTIC ARE THEY?: Oh, he can be incredibly romantic once he’s in a relationship with someone. It’s often in the small ways. He’ll bring them food, remember how they like their tea, do the dishes, or do other chores his partner struggles with. Then, it’s in the way he holds their hand---if they like that sort of thing---or the casual compliments he peppers into conversations. Roy loves to dote on his partner, and he wants to show the world that he loves them.

IDEAL PHYSICAL TRAITS: If it’s clear the other person takes care of themself, or at least tries to, then that’s all Roy can ask for. Yes, he likes some muscle, but it’s not necessary. He likes people of all shapes and sizes. The ability to deadlift him, though, will earn some bonus points.

IDEAL PERSONALITY TRAITS: This is where he gets a little pickier. Ideally, Roy wants someone who cares about something outside of themself, someone with drive, someone he can talk to, and someone who can stand up to him. Most importantly, though, he wants someone who’s kind. Look at everyone on his team. Every single person there has those traits in some way, shape, or form. Roy doesn’t settle for less in a professional capacity, so he definitely won’t when it comes to a personal relationship. We hope.

UNATTRACTIVE PHYSICAL TRAITS: Lack of personal hygiene is a big turn-off for him. He understands if it’s due to financial or health struggles, though.

This isn’t quite an unattractive physical trait, but Roy will find it harder to date someone if they eat meat. It has nothing to do with who they are as a person, and he will try to get past it for them.

UNATTRACTIVE PERSONALITY TRAITS: Again, this is where he gets picky. If a person is needlessly cruel or violent to others, Roy won’t hesitate to call them out on it, intervene, and then walk away. High levels of selfishness are also a turnoff for him. Lack of a sense of humor will keep him away, but he might bear with it longer considering his work atmosphere. Belittle him? He’ll tolerate it for a while, but he won’t stand for any belittling of members of his team or the Elric brothers.

IDEAL DATE: It depends on the person! Roy likes to cater dates specific to the person he’s spending time with. Ideally, though, the location is secluded or otherwise exclusive. He doesn’t want many interruptions since he wants to focus as much attention as possible on his partner.

DO THEY HAVE A TYPE?: He doesn’t seem to have a type, no.

AVERAGE RELATIONSHIP LENGTH: A few weeks to a few months. Though, these days, they’re more likely to last a couple weeks at most. He has to keep that womanizer persona intact.

PREFERRED NON-SEXUAL INTIMACY: The kind where the two of them can just coexist without saying a word. Being comfortable with quiet, and letting each person have their independence, is something he really enjoys. He also loves being physically close and cuddling, but that goes in line with just coexisting to him.

COMMITMENT LEVEL: If the relationship is just for fun, or no strings attached, he won’t be as committed. That’s something he will be upfront about with his partner. But, when Roy commits to something long-term and serious, he commits himself completely. His partner will become a central focus in his life.

OPINION OF PUBLIC AFFECTION: It depends on the kind of relationship it is and who it’s with. If he has to keep his relationship private for the sake of safety (i.e. careers, public image, etc), he won’t partake in public affection. That isn’t to say he dislikes it. In fact, he actually loves hand holding and putting an arm around his partner. He’s not one for doing more than short kisses in public, though. Anything too risque, and he’ll be unhappy.

PAST RELATIONSHIPS?: Many. But, again, they never lasted that long, and that was always purposeful on his part.

[hyuroiweek]

Hyuroi Week 2019

It’s time to celebrate the unforgettable and important relationship between Maes Hughes and Roy Mustang!  This year Hyuroi Week will be held February 11th thru February 17th to make up for the 2018 hiatus.   Tag your work #HyuroiWeek2019 and we will happily reblog!    

2019 Prompts:

Day 1: Feb 11th - Art of War

Day 2: Feb 12th- “I’ll become the umbrella for my beloved” 

Day 3: Feb 13th- Alternative

Day 4: Feb 14th- Valentine

Day 5: Feb 15th- Pride and Joy

Day 6: Feb 16th- Glasses

Day 7: Feb 17th- Futility

Rules:

All submissions must be your own work.  

Romantic and platonic Hyuroi will both be accepted.   NSFW is fine, but must  be tagged.

All types of fanwork will be accepted:  Art, fanfiction, gifs, fanmixes, etc.  Whatever you create for this ship week we want to see it!

This isn’t a competition, no ‘winners’ will be chosen.  We’re all winners when there is more Hyuroi in this world and no fan’s work is greater than another’s.  Have fun and enjoy!

Any comments, questions or concerns just ask!

[kawaiirun]

i should be working on hyuroi week but instead i’m back on my robot bs im sorry

started talking about it again w/ friends and i wanted to go back and redesign them. i dig it. changed it so that his face is just one big screen and he has a ‘mouth’, display only :( so the soundwave only appears when he’s receiving a radio transmission. he can still owo tho

sometimes when he acts out, his human superiors will punish him by turning off his face so he can’t emote or speak but he’s still concious :D 

[fluffmonger]

The World in Concert (1/4)

Wordcount: 437

Pairing: Hyuroi

Rating: T for now

A/N: I wrote this for @chirbinbirb/ @arklie for the @fmasecretsanta2018!

I deeply apologize for how long its taken, and also the fact that it’s not 100% done yet. I’m finishing it up now, after some unexpected busy-ness and a wrist injury that made it difficult to write properly. You asked for hyuroi hurt comfort, so I am here to provide with a role-swap, feat young!Hughes in Riza’s place, before and during the Ishvallan war. Fun fact, this is the first time I’ve ever tried writing Hughes’ pov, as usually my kink is Roy suffering lmao.

(this will be crossposted to ao3,with the last three parts coming in the next week as soon as I can get them edited)

---

The spring breeze is cool, gentle and yet still somehow sharp, carrying the scent of green life and a hint of magic that was entirely foreign to Roy Mustang. This rural region is nothing like his city, his home of brick and mortar and cobbles and dust. This is nothing like what he'd expected when he'd agreed to take on an apprenticeship with the man rumoured to be one of the most powerful alchemists in all Amestris. Shouldn't such a man live in luxury, live near a city with all kinds of resources?

And yet… there is a charm to this backwater. Something in the plants, the blooming flowers and distant cries of animals on far more organised farms, something that tugs his soul and makes him want to sing.

It is with a light heart that he knocks at the door of the humble manor, bouncing on his heels as he waits to announce himself to his new master, eager to begin the study of the esoteric circles that make alchemy. But there is yet another surprise for him, found in eyes as green as the spring breeze, and just as sharp as lingering winter. Another boy, his age, greeting him with a wrapped grin and hand extended.

“Hi! I'm Maes Hughes, and you must be the new boy. Roy right?”

The grin is infectious and Roy's world shifts, singing in concert with the magic of spring and eyes all too green to be quite real.

This new life is everything he's sought for so long, and it's only just begun.

***

Roy Mustang isn't anything like what Maes had expected, but he quickly finds that he is exactly the person he'd hoped for. Roy is bright, and quick, taking up the lessons as easily as the baby ducks in the little pond out back take to the water. He is every inch as bold and boastful as his name would imply, carrying himself with an imposing dignity, or at least… trying to. It is all too easy for him to forget himself and become his age again, full of excitement over a new tiny mastery, dark eyes burning with a brilliant fire that draws Maes close, and yet, frightens him.

Roy Mustang is… intense. Passionate. Larger than life.

And Roy Mustang is his closest friend, dancing in circles with him around Master Hawkeye's assignments, around this life and this place, their worlds in concert as they faced every day together.

Yes, Roy Mustang is young, and impetuous, and silly and yet he is also… Powerful.

And Maes knows already he never wants to leave his side.

[flourchildwrites]

A/N:  Thanks, @bearonthecouch ! For you, on (or around) your birthday, I’ll be more than happy to stray from the royai path and write some hyuroi!  Let’s see…  19 (summer camp AU) and 59 (interrupted declaration of love).  I could, you know, follow the instructions on this and just describe how I’d combine them.  Or I could actually write it.  We both know I like to overcommit.

Happy (belated) Birthday Bear!  Wishing you all the best in the coming year and many happy returns.

Read on AO3

Signing up as a Lake Shambala summer camp counselor had been a no brainer for 19-year-old Roy Mustang.  Free room and board.  An entire six weeks away from the hustle and bustle of Central City.  Rubbing elbows with the privileged offspring of Amestris’s most prominent citizens. It was an undeniably sweet gig for a kid who grew up changing out the taps behind his aunt’s bar during his semester breaks.

And while the transition to camp life was not without its share of mosquito bite bumps and hiking-related bruises, Roy found he enjoyed the outdoors more with each passing day.  At 6:02 a.m. on the dot, Roy lumbered out of bed and jammed his feet into an old pair of running shoes that, he suspected, smelled worse than they looked.  With a bleary-eyed glance in the mirror, Roy slipped on a weather-beaten cap over his tousled dark hair.  He never expected to become an aficionado of morning runs through the camp’s dewy nature trails, but then Roy never expected to meet someone like Maes Hughes.

Maes wasn’t like the other camp counselors.  Though certainly from Central City’s upper crust, there wasn't a condescending bone in his tall, athletic body.  He laughed gregariously when Roy recalled his foolhardy antics from his first year of college, and the allure of his sharp tongue was only matched by the insightful gaze emanating from his bright, amber eyes.  Idealistic Roy Mustang, smart and scrappy public school scum, a lauded ladies man (or so they said), was utterly smitten from the word “hello.”

Like clockwork, Maes emerged from the neighboring cabin and jaunted across the manicured lawn toward the counselor’s quarters of lucky cabin 13, Roy’s private lodging.  From his open window, the dark-haired man watched Maes cross the green grass through a pair of heavy-lidded eyes that lingered over his friend's lean build.  Roy smiled wryly as he imaged running his thumb across Maes’s scruffy jawline, passing a hand through his hopelessly spiky hair in pursuit of a good morning kiss.  He could have done it that morning, should have done it every morning since he fell hard and fast for Maes, but for one tiny, insignificant detail:  Maes had no idea how he felt.

Today was the day that would change.

Roy thrust open the screen door and bounded down the stairs with butterflies in his stomach and his heart on his sleeve.  He readied himself to greet Maes with his trademark devil-may-care smirk and then sprint, shamelessly, down their usual jogging trail toward an arresting vista view of Lake Shambala.  Roy glanced at his sports watched and made a mental note of the time, 6:13 a.m.  In 22 minutes, the sun would rise over the horizon, reflected across the calm waters of the lake in a saturated splash of bright orange and rosy hues.  They had just enough time to make it there for the big reveal, the moment when Roy would shed his carefully crafted persona and confess to feelings than ran deeper than friendship or brotherhood.

Roy had to know what it felt like to be held in Maes’s accepting embrace.  He needed the constancy of his friend’s penetrating gaze and craved to be seen as something other than a smart boy from the wrong side of the track by the only person within about 100 miles that could provide such validation.  Roy Mustang wanted Maes Hughes, and if he couldn’t have him, at least he’d be consoled by the fact that he took his chance in the grandest, most romantic way possible.

“Mornin’ Roy,” Maes greeted, flashing his fellow counselor an immaculate set of pearly whites coupled with a sly wink.  “How’s it hanging?”

“Ah, you know,” Roy responded scratching the base of his ballcap as he relished their flirty banter.  “Better now that you’re here.  Should we get to it?”

“Of course,” he answered, “but before we leave I’ve got to tell you something I’ve been meaning to mention for a while.  I- I know it’s presumptuous of me but just...  Can you keep an open mind?”

Roy’s pulse fluttered; his stomach turned.  He approached Maes with a tender reverence that (he hoped) said the words that their professional relationship discouraged.  “Of course, Maes. I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you too.”

“Oh good,” Maes laughed, seemingly relieved.  “Then, I guess you know or realized something like this was happening.  Hell, I’ve had inquiries from across the whole camp.”

“The whole camp knows?” Roy asked, unable to suppress the shock that flashed across his dark eyes.

Maes chuckled.  “We haven't exactly been discreet.  It was some of your kids, actually, that brought the issue to my attention, and after hearing them out, I sympathize with their concerns.”

“Concerns?” Roy echoed.  His palms grew sweaty as he considered the implication of Maes’s words.  He knew something like this might happen.  Maes might not feel the same way as him; he might not be ready to dignify the furtive glances and languid touches of late.  “The last thing I would ever want to do is make you feel uncomfortable.”

The furrowed brows on Maes’s forehead gave Roy pause.  “I lead the campers around all day.  Why would I feel uncomfortable taking them out for a sunrise run?”

Flabbergasted, Roy’s jaw nearly hit the ground.  “A what?”

“They didn’t tell you?” Maes said with a tone of disbelief.  “Some of the other students are joining us for our morning run from now until the end of the summer.  What are you talking about?”

It wasn’t ideal. The dim, grassy lawn wasn’t majestic or moving in the slightest, but Maes had asked a question Roy couldn’t ignore.  It was now or never, he resolved.  Inwardly, Roy took a deep breath, summoned every last ounce of his courage and-

“Morning Counselor Bastard, Mr. Maes!  Ready for our run?”

No, it couldn’t be.

Roy pivoted in a state of disbelieving rage to find the slight silhouette of his most challenging camper, then wide awake at an hour when Roy had never seen him so much as twitch in his sleep.  Yes, there stood a blonde boy who, despite his small stature and above-average intelligence, had given him hell since the moment Roy informed him that the bunk assignments were nonnegotiable, and he couldn't move to the same cabin as his brother.

“Morning Edward!” Maes greeted cheerfully.  “Do you have your running shoes on?”

“Sure thing,” the young boy replied with an offhand gesture toward his squeaky clean cross-trainers.  “We’re just waiting on Al, Paninya and Winry.  It sure would have been easier to coordinate if we had been placed in the same cabin.  Don’t you think Mr. Mustang?”

Roy sneered through a set of gritted teeth, not trusting himself to utter a word for fear of his well-paying employment.  Though he remained uncharacteristically silent, the smirk on Edward Elric’s face spoke volumes, and Roy’s mind rewound the past week to determine the exact moment where he’d let his carefully crafted plans slip.  Perhaps, it was the phone call he’d made to Riza a week ago or his letters home to Aunt Chris in which he’d all but pined over Maes like a lovesick pre-teen.  Maybe, it was the countless handwritten drafts of the speech he planned to make to Maes which Roy had ultimately discarded in the communal trash can along with his research about the exact time the sun would rise.  Either way, Roy knew he was fucked, and not at all in the way he had hoped.

And while his means remained elusive, Ed’s motive, smugly smeared across his annoying face came through loud and clear.  It said:  If I can't sleep where I want to, neither can you.

Like what you read?  Send me a FANFICTION TROPE MASH UP ask.

[jeminy3]

Soft!Roy Fic Excerpt - Hyuroi

Small portion of an experimental 2nd-person fic that evolved from jotting down some Chubby!Roy headcanons, in which Hughes makes an absolute fool of himself.

Read on Google Docs

TW: exercise, semi-negative body image and one mention of weight loss

- You're nervous during your first several weeks in the Academy. Once again you have to hang around young people your age in a public school setting, but since everyone here is approaching adulthood, there's less judgment of your size. In fact, some of the other cadets are about as heavy or out-of-shape as you are out on the training fields, so there's more looks of empathy than judgment out here. It's a relief. Your training is hard enough as it is.

- After the quiche incident and everything that'd happened afterward, you've suddenly found yourself with a friend in Maes Hughes. He's still annoying sometimes, but he's a good man overall, and he shares your dream of building towards a better Amestris.

You end up spotting for each other in the gym while you both work to meet military standards - although he ends up watching you most of the time, since you're working harder to lose weight and get in shape. You start your mornings bright and early so you can get in some sets before breakfast and classes, using as much of that burst of early-bird energy as you can before the rest of the day wears you down. Hughes holds your weights and keeps track of your sets with sleepy eyes and tired hands, sipping at a cup of early coffee swiped from the Mess Hall. He's annoyingly nonchalant about your workouts, since you're serious about this, but it's probably just because he's so tired this early in the morning.

You flop on the floor with a sigh after another round of stomach crunches, feeling your still-flabby stomach under your sweat-soaked shirt. "I don't think I'll ever get a six-pack," you moan. "Or any kind of pack, at this rate."

No matter how hard you've tried all these months, you just can't burn off that stubborn layer of fat on your lower stomach. Your abdominals are strong, and they must be well-defined by now, surely, but they can't show through your belly fat.

Maes chuckles above you. "C'mon man, don't worry about it. If you can't get 'em, you can't get 'em!"

You lift your eyes to look at him, giving him an incredulous look. "Sure, says the guy who's got rock-hard abs with no trouble at all."

Maes' upside-down head tilts at you, shrugging. "Eh. Abs are overrated. More trouble than it's worth, really."

You sit up at that, twisting around to face him. "You're a damn marble statue compared to me, Maes, don't bullshit me."

And he is. Maes is tall and lean, muscular and flexible. His reflexes are uncanny, and he trounces you in every sparring match you've had (so far. You'll beat him one of these days, you swear).  On top of his chiseled features, dark hair and hazel-green eyes, he's far closer to the stereotypical 'ideal man' than you are. He's a hit with women and he knows it, and deep down, you're terribly jealous of him.

Maes just smiles at you crookedly, like he always does. So annoying. "I'm being honest! I mean sure, they're nice for showing off for the ladies, but that's about it really."

He stretches and lets out a yawn, idly scratching at his neck. "Ugh- Hard abs are hard, man. They're no fun. They're not, y'know, soft or cute like-"

He stops mid-sentence. Something strange has passed over his face, and he just... stares at you, frozen for a few moments, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

You squint at him, at what he was just saying. "...What?"

Soft? Cute? What is he talking about?

Your question snaps him out of his stupor, it seems. He quickly tears his eyes away from you, turning away and coughing loudly into his fist. His face grows oddly flushed all of a sudden. "Uh- N- Nothing, nothing. Nevermind."

You blink at him a few times. Is he... flustered? That's... strange, because you almost never see him like this... it's kind of hilarious, actually.

You can't help but want to needle him a bit, feeling a smile tugging at the corner of your mouth. "No, what is it? What's this about being 'soft' and stuff, huh?"

Maes glances at you nervously, and it looks like his flush is getting darker. "Nuh- It's nothing! Don't worry about it, alright? Alright. Yeah. Cool."

With odd, jerky movements, he turns away from you, strides toward the nearby bench where he's left his coffee and retrieves it.

"Anyway, good session. See uh, see you later Roy. At uh. At classes. Yeah," he says, in this low, sort of muttering tone, muffled as he starts sipping his cup. He glances at you again, in this paranoid sort of way, as he quickly heads out of the gym.

You're left alone in your confusion, and fascination. You're not sure what you did, or what had even happened at all, to make Maes act like that all of a sudden. He was normally cool, collected, smarmy even. Was it something you said?

You don't get any answers during the rest of the day, as the question fades from your mind as you're swept back into your hectic academy schedule. And Maes doesn't bring up anything about it in any of your conversations afterward.

[ariodat]

Small Hyuroi collection is growing!

We have also registered the url https://the-doujin-bin.tumblr.com/ where we're gonna showcase various doujins from different fandoms. Things are going to start in a week or two, as soon as Tumblr lets our posts appear in the tags.

[rrivendell]

Blossoms

Hey, @pidgeonsgunderson! I was your Secret Santa!  Sorry I didn’t have this posted by Christmas, so I guess this is more of a New Year’s gift. :) I normally don’t write fluff, but this academy days Hyuroi fic turned out a lot fluffier than I thought it would. I hope you like it!

 “How about these?”

Roy looked at Maes and shook his head.

“I think you should stick to rectangular frames,” Roy said. “Round doesn’t look good on you.”

“I don’t think they’re that bad.” Maes turned again to the mirror and Roy watched his reflection squint. The round glasses looked so silly on him that Roy couldn’t help but smirk.

“No, they are that bad. Try these.”

Maes put on the narrow wire glasses and tilted his head. “I don’t know. Maybe something a little bigger.”

For the next half hour, Maes tried on over a dozen pairs. One of which was made of dark blue plastic and, Roy thought, looked particularly dashing. Maes pretended to gag at his reflection.

“I hate blue,” he said.

“Then the military was a poor career choice,” Roy teased.

“Why do the uniforms have to be blue? The flag is green, green would blend in to the environment better, plus blue dye is more expensive!”

“All right, I get it, you hate blue.” Roy shook his head as he put the glasses back.

A few minutes later, Maes selected another pair of round frames. Roy liked them better than the first round pair, but not as well as the blue ones. He continued to look for a similar pair in a different color, but had no luck.

“What do you think?” Maes asked.

They really didn’t look bad, but Roy couldn’t help but think of his ancient, studious neighbor from whom he’d borrowed thick volumes about alchemy as a child.

“They make you look like you read way too much,” he said.

Maes frowned. “I like them.”

“Okay. Nerd.”

They continued browsing, trying on pairs they knew would look terrible just to have a laugh at them, and cringing at the price of some. Roy tried not to think about how few of these types of moments they had left. He suggested several pairs he suspected Maes would dislike in the hopes they would remain in the shop just a little longer. He even tried again to sway Maes’s opinion of the blue one, but to no avail (“I’m going to look so stupid if my glasses match my uniform!”). Surprisingly, Maes did like another rectangular pair Roy brought him.

“These aren’t bad at all,” Maes said as he examined his reflection. The sharp steel corners complimented his cheekbones and jaw so well that Roy was disappointed when Maes took them off.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Maes narrowed his choices down to the round and the steel rectangular pairs.

“I think I like the round ones,” Maes said. He examined them in the mirror again, looking pleased.

“Are you sure?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I like the other ones better.”

“They’re going on my face, Roy.”

“Which I have to look at.”

Maes pouted. “‘Have to?’”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Fine, I get to look at your face.”

“Aren’t you just the luckiest guy in the world?” Maes beamed.

Roy snorted. “Sure am.”

Maes turned back to the mirror and put on the other frames.

“Hurry up and choose,” Roy told him. “We still have to study for our final evaluations.”

Maes didn’t respond for a moment. “Do you really like these ones better?” he asked.

“Yeah. I like them even better than your old ones.”

“Looks like I’m getting these, then.”

Roy blinked. “What?”

“You think I look better in these, so I’m going to get these.”

“Maes, if you like the other ones—” Roy protested, but Maes shushed him. Roy suppressed a smile.

#

For the next few weeks, their schooling became almost overwhelming. As much as he might try to go to bed at a reasonable hour—or at least stay up late doing something fun—Roy found himself studying past midnight, night after night. Usually, he and Maes studied together. Sometimes a few of their classmates joined them; Heathcliff frequently found Roy and Maes in the library or in one of the dorm common areas. Roy preferred it when it was just Maes and himself, however. He could think of no one else whom he’d rather share his misery with. Reviewing lecture notes and old reading assignments made the hours drag on, and Roy could pretend his time with Maes would never end.

But end they would. After their last examination, Roy walked with Maes (who allowed himself a celebratory yell) out of the exam center, then across campus with him, past groups of cadets, some still studying, most simply enjoying the sunlight and their newfound freedom. White, sweet-smelling blossoms filled the trees. A breeze ruffled through them, causing a few to drop like snowflakes.

“Let’s go over here,” Maes steered Roy toward a road tree that had already lost most of its blossoms, leaving a snowy pile at its base. Leaves had begun sprouting, providing relief from the sun. Maes sat with his back against the trunk and Roy lied on top of the tiny white flowers, not caring if they stained his shirt. He closed his eyes.

“I can’t believe I’ve known you for two years.” The wistful undertone in Maes’s voice almost made Roy open his eyes, but he remained still. Graduation filled Roy with a sense of accomplishment, of course, but he couldn’t ignore that he may not see Maes again for years after commencement. Blossoms and silence tickled the back of Roy’s neck.

“What will you do with your leave time after we graduate?” Roy asked, keeping his eyes closed and trying not to let his muscles tense.

“I’m going to see my parents. My sister is visiting too, so It’ll be nice to see them all. I wish it could be for more than two months, though.”

“I’ll bet.”

“What about you?”

“I’ll go see my aunt. Then I need to pay my old alchemy teacher a visit.”

“Were you close?”

“I guess so. I lived with him every summer for eight years.”

Roy cracked his eyes open. Maes looked at him with an intent curiosity, no doubt wondering what alchemists talked about. Maes’s new glasses slid down his nose, causing his green eyes to look over the top of the frames. Roy couldn’t breathe for a second.

“I’m going to take the State Alchemist exam,” he explained. “I could use a little help.”

Maes’s eyes widened. “Really? That’s great!”

“I’m glad you think so. I doubt my teacher will be pleased.”

“Why not? He should be proud of you, especially if you pass. That exam is no joke.”

“No kidding. I won’t even take it for another eighteen months and I’m already preparing.”

“Then why won’t your teacher be happy?”

Roy sat up and scooted next to Maes. “Master Hawkeye distrusts the military. He thinks that no alchemist with any integrity would align themselves with it.”

“You’re already a soldier. Why would becoming a State Alchemist make it any worse?”

“He doesn’t think alchemy should be used to kill. Our creed is ‘be thou for the people.’”

Maes thought for a moment. “But isn’t that why you’re here?”

“Hmm?”

“You told me you came to the academy because you want to protect your country. Isn’t that being ‘for the people?’”

“Try telling my teacher that.” Roy crushed a fistful of the snowy flowers.

Maes leaned closer so their shoulders touched. His green eyes flicked over to the other cadets laughing at each other’s jokes and poring over their textbooks. Roy glanced over as well, but none of them were looking their way. Relationships between cadets weren’t exactly forbidden, but Roy and Maes didn’t want to take any chances.

“Well, I’m happy for you,” Maes said. “And I’m positive you’ll ace it.” The smile that spread across his face was so soft and affectionate that it made Roy’s stomach flutter a little.

“Thank you.”

They sat under the tree until it was almost dinner time. Aside from the occasional remark, they sat in comfortable silence. When they’d first met, Roy had thought Maes was talkative to the point of obnoxiousness. After a while, he’d discovered that his classmate recognized when something was worth saying and when it wasn’t. It made him a wonderful conversation partner, but after a few months together Roy had come to enjoy their shared silences as well. He’d lost track of how many moments like this one they’d shared. He would miss this.

The massive clock above the mess hall chimed, signaling the start of the dinner hour. The two of them stayed seated.

“One more week,” Maes whispered. “Then we’ll be done.”

“Maybe I could come see you before you ship out.”

Maes smiled. “I’d like that.” He slid his fingers between Roy’s and squeezed.

* * *

[maisstories]

explain why do/don’t ship hyuroi?

I ship it.

I’m not overly into it (it’s one of those ships I’m on the knife edge between ship and brotp), but I love Roy, Maes and everything they have together. I like the idea of them keeping each other sane during the war (it gives me a lot of feels, and is a favorite source of angst of mine), as well as being together at the academy.

Admittedly, I haven’t given the ship too much thought past a fic idea that didn’t make it to the Hyuroi week last year.

Send me a ship ask!

[bleedingcoffee42]

Hyuroi Week 2017: Day 4: Always By Your Side

Picked up an old WIP for this one.  Still a WIP.   

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He was still reeling from the news of the Hughes's death and the last thing he was prepared for was a tall man in a suit placing the envelope in his hand.   Everything seemed to come to a standstill as the man asked, “Colonel Mustang, did you hear what I said?”

The past few hours had been like living a nightmare.  It was an ordinary day at the office until he answered the phone and found out that his best friend and his wife had been killed in a train derailment.   He felt his world slow down as the voice on the other end of the line, Hughes's secretary, cried and told him the brief details.   Maes and Gracia were going out to lunch, one of the trains hit a car on the tracks and the entire front of the engine caught on fire.   The train went into a curve too quickly, jumping the tracks and landing on Smith Street.  It was a disaster.

Roy heard Hawkeye's voice beside him as he set down the phone and felt his hand shake.   Hughes was dead?   He survived a war and his damned job just to die in the street because of a freak accident?  She drove him to the station, got them on the first train to Central and drove him to the hospital to see the coroner.   He didn't say much and let Hawkeye lead him around.   How the hell could he be gone?  

“Colonel?”

Roy looked up at the man who was hovering over him, a lawyer.   He had been replaying the day in his head again hoping for a different outcome.   He sat up and looked at the man and said, “Yes.”

“It was my understanding that Lt. Colonel Hughes had spoken with you about this.”  

Roy looked at the letter in his hand and saw Maes's signature handwriting on it.   He opened the letter and ignored the man who was growing more agitated by the second because he was paid by the hour.  To hell with him.   He opened the letter addressed to him and as he read he heard Maes's voice in his head.

Roy, if you're reading this then I'm dead and you forgot about the many times we talked about this.  In the event that something happened to me and Gracia, you agreed to take care of Elicia.   Remember, now?  Good.  So I need you to get past whatever happened to me because my daughter needs you.  

I know this isn't going to be easy, but you are going to have to be the Dad I can't be now.  I know you're going to say that you're the worst person for this job and you can't take care of yourself more or less a kid.   You're better than you give yourself credit for.   Elicia is a pretty forgiving kid too.  God I love her....please please don't let her live a day without knowing she's loved.   You were there Roy, you were that kid who had to adapt to a Foster Mom and learn to live without your parents.  I don't know how you did it and I can't give you any advice, but I believe in you.   So please, just help her through this.

I hope you never read this, but I'd be a fool to never prepare for this scenario.   Take care of each other.  Oh...and get a WIFE!!   ~Maes

The hand-writing got shaky and there were blotched indicating tears had fallen when he wrote this.  So Elicia loses her parents and then gets stuck with him?  That wasn't equivalent exchange.   “Yes.”

The lawyer nodded and tucked his briefcase under his arm.  “The little girl is at home with a Major Armstrong?   I assume the military will be taking care of the funeral, so there won't be anything I need from you in that regards, however I do have a lot of paperwork for you to sign come tomorrow.   You can come by my office?”

“Yes.”  Roy said and the man gave him a nod and handed him a business card.   Then he was gone, down the busy hallway of the hospital basement that was now packed with gurneys, body bags and sobbing families.   He looked up at Hawkeye who had stood by his side the entire time and she rested her hand on his shoulder again.

“Dr. Knox...” Riza took a deep breath.  “He says that Armstrong already identified the bodies and highly suggest you not torture yourself by going in there.”

Roy glanced up at her, “No.  I...need to.  I've seen worse...I've done worse.”

Riza looked away as he pushed past the swinging doors into the morgue.   One more thing to try to suffocate him in his dreams, the man knew how to hurt himself.  She followed him, knowing it would be up to her to drag him out of there when he could endure no more.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“This isn't the Hughes's house.”  Roy said flatly from the passenger seat as he realized the car had stopped.

“I know.”  Riza looked  over at his red eyes and reached over to hold the hand he rested on the seat.  “You should stop and see your Mom while you are in town.”

Roy shook his head.  “Riza, nothing is going to make me a suitable parent, not even a pep talk from my foster mother about how I came into her life.”

“Hughes would have never asked you if he didn't believe you were capable.”  She said softly and squeezed his hand.  

He nodded and opened the door and slipped off the seat to stand on the sidewalk. He looked up at his childhood home as the “Christmas's Bar” sign swung lightly in the breeze.   He could still remember being about Elicia's age when he got out of the car after his parent's funeral and looked up at the exact same sign and wondered why he was being punished like this.   He had been scared of his Aunt Chris at first, she was a bold and intimidating woman, and he just followed her around like a lost puppy.   He had no home or parents to go to, he had no other choice.   He took a deep breath and walked to the door and opened it, the bell rang over his head and reminded him that this would always be home for him.

Chris Mustang looked up from the bar and raised an eyebrow when she saw her foster son.  Something was wrong, it was written all over his face.   “What's wrong, Roy-Boy?”

He paused in the doorway and looked at her.  The bar was empty, she wasn't open for business yet.  He let the door swing closed as he walked over to the bar and slumped onto a stool.  “Maes was killed in that train accident...”

She reached over and put her hand on his cheek.   “I'm sorry kid.”

“He...asked me to take care of his daughter.”  Roy let out a choked sob and put his fist in his mouth to avoid breaking down and crying.  Maes asked him to look after his daughter, the center of his universe.

“Then where is she?”  Chris said and his watery eyes lifted to her and she ruffled his hair.  “What?  At least you're a respectable man with means to take care of a kid.  You have a devoted woman beside you too.   I'm proud of how you turned out Roy Boy, and nobody has to tell me I wasn't the ideal candidate to raise a kid.  You know how scared and lost that poor girl is right now, so get your ass over there and don't let her leave your side.”

“Mom...”

“Go.” She said and smacked his cheek.  “I'll make dinner.”

Roy didn't move until she shoved him off the bar stool and gave him an authoritative point to the door.  He slowly moved away and shuffled to the door. When he hesitated opening it he heard her voice, much softer than before.

“She needs your confidence and strength even if you have none.   Just take her under your wing like you naturally do to everyone you meet.”

xxxxxxxxxxxx

Edward felt the air sucked out of his lungs when Maria Ross told him that the Hughes' were killed in the accident that leveled half of Smith Street.  When they had come in on the train, they saw the damage and Al had joked about it looking like Ed had been here already...now...”Oh my God.”

Al could only gasp in horror at the news.   He wished he had some other release for the horrible emotions, but without a real body his soul was forced to just bear it all on it's own.  “NO!”

Maria looked away, their voices tore open the wound that she thought was starting to heal.   The loss of Hughes was a cloud that hung over them all.  “It was a horrible accident, a lot of people lost their lives.”

“What about Elicia?”  Al asked and saw his brother stiffen.   Please God, please don't take another little girl from this world.

“She's...with Colonel Mustang.”  Maria watched the sorrow turn into shock on Ed's face.   “In the event that something happened to him and his wife, Lt. Colonel Hughes asked the Colonel to look after his daughter. Elicia is in East City with him.”

“Like...living with him?”  Ed said and tried to get his mind around Mustang being a responsible adult in charge of a sweet little girl.  The first image that came to his mind was of the young Lt. Colonel who grabbed him by his collar and lifted him out of his wheelchair by his throat. “Oh my GOD!”

Al cringed.  The Colonel....was taking care of Elicia?  “We've been in his apartment!  He has food in his fridge that is older than us and I'm pretty sure there is something living in his couch!”

“Has nobody seen how he treats me!?”  Ed screamed.   “You let him take her home with him!?”

“Boys.”  Maria said as they both bolted down the hallway and disappeared down the hall.   She sighed.   “Well I guess two more protective Uncles won't hurt anything.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

“Are these pictures?”  Elicia asked as she almost fell into the box after the album that was just placed in there.

Roy sat on the floor and put a few books on his lap, pausing his packing for a moment.   He couldn't believe all the crap he had accumulated over the years of living in this place.  It was essential to move though, for both their sakes.  She needed her own room and he needed to leave his bachelor lifestyle behind for good.   “Just of me as a kid. Nothing exciting.”

“I want to see!” She said and tried to pull the album out and was grateful when his hand helped lift the book out for her.  

He set aside the books and scooted over on the carpet to sit next to her and look at the dusty album.  A month of having her in his care had allowed him to finally stop acting so awkward around her.  Granted he was sure he was being too honest when she asked questions, but he was just going to blame that on being an alchemist and not a shitty adult.  

“They're in black and white.”  She said and looked up at her Uncle Roy who still had the bow in his hair from earlier when she brushed it for him.  “Did you not have color when you were little?”

“No, color film was a little more expensive back then.  My Mom just had this old camera...”

“So was everything in back and white?” She asked.  “Like did you see in black and white? Did you live without color?”

He was slowly acclimating to the mindset of a child and learning to be less offended by the straight forward innocent questions she asked.   “No. I saw in color.  It's just that the film was....never mind.   That's a picture of when my Mom bought me my first alchemy book.  And that squirrel I tried to tame that ended up trashing the supply closet and running through the duct work during business hours.  ”

Elicia smiled as she flipped to the next page.  “You were so cute!”

He looked at the picture of him wearing an apron trying to make biscuits.   “I learned an important lesson that day.”

“What was that?” She asked.

“There is a huge difference between a teaspoon and a tablespoon when speaking in terms of salt.”  He sighed.  “Those biscuits were awful. They're probably still up on the roof of the bar.  I tried feeding them to the pigeons and they got a little suspicious of me after that.”

“You mean like when you try feeding Hayate?”  She asked.

“Yeah.”  Roy reached over for the books and looked at the alchemy book that was his first book.   So, should he see if she wanted to learn this too? He had no idea what Maes would have wanted.  

“It's Daddy!” Elicia squealed.

Roy froze and looked down at the album.  He had put away the picture he usually kept on his desk from graduation, not wanting to make things harder on them both.   However he forgot that nearly half his album was stuffed full of academy pictures thanks to Maes being.....well....Maes.   He had sent those all home to his Mom and she had placed them in the album.  

“Uncle Roy?” Elicia said and touched the picture.   “Why can't you bring him and Mommy back?  With alchemy?”

Roy could feel his gut churning and the bile beginning to rise from his stomach.   Thankfully there was a loud knock on the door that could only be one obnoxious person.   He was never so happy to hear Fullmetal's knock before in his life.   “Hey, that's Ed.”

“How do you know?”  Elicia said and turned as she heard the banging again.

“I just know.” Roy said as she ran over to the door and he threw the books in the box.    He got up and walked over to open the door and saw from Elicia's fading smile that she was hoping he was wrong.   She was hoping her Dad would be there to pick her up and tell her it was all a mistake,  that this nightmare wasn't real and he was here to save her.   Instead he looked at Ed who must have seen the same thing he did, and the boy was immediately mellowed out.  His confidence was already shaken before he was reminded of just how bad he was with kids.  “Hey Fullmetal, are you here to help me pack?”

xxxxxxxx

“We're home!” Elicia squealed and opened the car door before the car could come to a stop.   Roy slammed on the brakes and the Elrics slammed into the front seat as Elicia jumped out of the car.   Before Roy could put the car in park, the boys were scrambling over each other to get out of the back seat and race after the little girl.   All three of them made it to the front lawn just in time to see Elicia pounding her little fists on the front door, screaming for her parents.  Ed and Al knew the feeling, the knew exactly what it was like coming home and finding out it could never be home again.  They had run home after the funeral only to find an empty house, ran home thinking if they could just get away from the nightmare that they could go back to the way things were.      

Ed was the first to go over to Elicia and take her hands in his own.   “They're not here.”

“You don't know that!”  Elicia screamed.  “I want my Mommy and Daddy! They came home while I was away, I know it.”

Roy tossed the house  keys to Al, his feet still frozen in place.   He thought they were making progress, but that was all a lie he told himself to make this situation more comfortable.   Elicia would never be over their loss, and it would take years before she stopped looking at the door expecting her parents to come home.  He remember doing that, a memory long repressed, and knew he wasn't the one to help her now.   Ed and Al's could still relate, they still picked at the scabs of their loss.   “I'll get her bags.”

Al walked up the stairs and onto the front porch and put the keys in the door, then swung it open for Elicia to run into.   Ed kept his eyes down and followed her, turning on lights as they went.   Al was glad for once that he wasn't in a real body, he didn't want to smell that stagnant air or that faint hint of familiar people's smell.   The silence in a home that had once been filled with warmth and happiness was enough.

Ed wasn't as lucky.  Elicia could be heard running from room to room, echos of “Mommy?” “Daddy!” and it was enough to break his heart, but seeing the Hughes home frozen in time was something he wasn't prepared for.   Armstrong had gone through and thrown away the perishables, secured the valuables and locked the house up after the funeral.   It wasn't until matters were settled that the lawyer turned over the keys to Mustang, the Hughes' left everything to Elicia and Mustang was her guardian until she was old enough to own it herself.   Mustang thought it would be better for Elicia to live in her home, but Ed wasn't so sure about that now.   It wasn't an empty house like they came home to as kids, Hughes was much more of a presence and that was evident now.

Photos were on every wall.   Maes and Gracia were smiling at them from behind the glass of those frames, smiling as they lived and loved life...a life that was now lost.   Al tried to not look as he walked to the stairs, but it was impossible.  “What do we do? We can't take these pictures down?”

“At least...” Ed whispered.  “I never knew how fortunate we were to have so few pictures of Mom.”

“Yeah.”  Al agreed.  He walked up the stairs to Elicia's room and found her in her bed, clutching a stuffed animal.   He walked over and sat down beside her and to his surprise she started crying into his arm.   “It's going to be hard for a while.”

“Why can't you bring them back!?”  Elicia squealed.  “I want my Mommy and Daddy back.”

“It won't work.” Al said softly.  “It never does.”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roy settled in to his new job in Central easier than he settled into his new home.   Elicia was better off somewhere familiar instead of his cramped apartment and returning home reassured her quite a bit.  It was hard, feeling like someone was always watching him, nowing he was probably disappointing him.   Roy put his hands on the bathroom vanity and looked at himself in the mirror, hardly the image of a good foster parent.   He had no idea how his own mother hand managed to do this. “Hughes, I don't know how to give her the life you wanted.  I don't know how to be you.”

He got in the shower and took his time.  This was the only time he had to himself as Elicia glued herself to him during their time together, fearing he would disappear forever and leave her alone as well.     He called her from work to reassure her as much as possible.   They played when he got home.   He would read her a bedtime story and put her to sleep, then take a shower and discover she had relocated to his bed.  This was his only peaceful time.  All ten minutes of it.

When he got out of the shower he toweled off and looked at the mirror, ready to use his towel to wipe away the condensation on the glass.  However he paused as he stared at the steamed up mirror, words traced out in it. “Still by your side Roy-Boy”

There were only three people in this world who knew about that nickname.   His mother and Riza would never break into his bathroom to write spooky shit in the mirror, they'd never push his buttons like that.   His best friend would.  His asshole best friend would break into his apartment and write dumb fucking messages on his mirror to find when he was recovering from a hangover.   But Maes was dead, that was a fact.

Then, in front of his eyes, he saw new letters emerge.   One by one:   USO-800. Maes's call number that only he and Central Command knew.  This couldn't be real.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ed and Al came over for dinner, something they were now accustomed to doing for Elicia's sake.   Roy enjoyed cooking and Elicia enjoyed company, they enjoyed trying to make things normal for her.   It worked out well.   This evening something seemed wrong and Ed couldn't quite put his finger on it.   He wondered if Roy was going to give up on it all, he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt, but he was biased when it came to failed father figures.   Al was hopeful, but Ed saw the uncertainty and it reminded him of the way Hohenheim used to look at them before he left.  

After they put Elicia to bed and told her a bedtime story, they came out to say goodnight to Roy as he did the dishes.   “Is Elicia asleep?”

Ed glared at his back as he put some more dishes in the drying rack. He knew it. “Yeah.”

Al gave his brother a questioning glance.  Why did he sound so hostile?  “Yes, she tried to fight it but we promised to come back tomorrow so she could hear the rest of the story.”

Roy toweled off his hands and turned around.   “I have a theory to run past you two.”

Theory.  Ed crossed his arms and leaned against the wall.  Theory that he wasn't cut out for this?  That he wasn't going to be able to be a good Father for this little girl so it was best to just not try?

“As alchemists, we can see energy.”  Roy began., his eyes not lifting from the towel as he rubbed his hands off despite them already being adequately dry. “I'm not alone in this?”

“No.” Al responded.

“A soul, is theorized as being an energy source.” Roy began and finally threw the towel onto the counter.  He looked up and he saw Hughes standing beside Ed on the wall.   He had nobody else he could ask.   These two were the only people in existence who could understand his reasoning or his insanity.  “We, as alchemists, should be able to see it as we do other energy.”

Ed wasn't expecting that.   He let his anger abate and stepped away from the wall. “What...are you asking?”

“Can you see Hughes?”  Roy asked and looked directly at his best friend. “There, by the chalkboard on the wall?”

Both boys turned towards the chalkboard without hesitation and saw nothing. Then something happened.   On the chalkboard was a patch of scribbled chalk, a block of color, and then smudges in it appeared.  Something was wiping away the chalk.  Al was the first to ask, “How are you doing that? I didn't see you clap.”

“I'm not doing that.”  Roy said.  “You see it too, right?”

Ed walked closer, eyes watching intently as every stroke revealed a message.   It was a date.  His birthday.  Elicia's birthday.   “Colonel, if this is some kind of joke I will kick your ass all the way back to East City.”

“If you concentrate to the left of the chalkboard, to the left of you...can you see him?”  Roy asked and stepped closer to the table.  He needed confirmation, he needed to know he wasn't losing it. “Concentrate.   Focus on the energy...”

Ed did as asked and did see a faint outline of something.    

“I see.” Al said and gasped softly.   “He's a soul without a body.  How did you do it Colonel?”

“I didn't do anything.”  Roy said and Hughes then wrote on the board again.

'Alchemy doesn't do everything.'

Ed leaned against the kitchen table.   He looked at Mustang who's face betrayed his relief and he knew right then and there this was the truth.  He had accepted so many other things so readily, why not this?  He focused harder and saw the shadowy face of a man they had come to love as part of their family.  He was quick to react and said, “But...maybe we can use alchemy to attach your soul to a body.”

'No'

“I already asked.”  Roy said and sat down at the table.   “Hughes wishes to remain a ghost.”

Al knew from the sound of his voice that Mustang would have paid the toll to soul bind Hughes to something so he could still live.   He also knew that he would still do it if a solution presented itself.  “I don't understand how this is happening?  How is Hughes able to be here?”

“I don't know anything about ghosts.”  Roy said and leaned back in the chair.  “I always thought they were bullshit easily explained by the human psyche stretching for a reason to simple physical reactions.   “

'I like proving your wrong'

“Shut up Hughes.”

Ed sat down and felt the air disturbance next to him and his skin reacted to it with goosebumps and raised hairs.   “So what do you want us to do?   Do you want us to find a way to put him in a body again?”

“I want...” Roy paused.  “We want you to help Elicia learn alchemy so she can see him.   I think there is something in the way we, as alchemists, see the world that enables us to focus on this energy and mentally process it.”

“Does she know?” Al asked.

Roy looked at Hughes and crossed his arms.  “Well someone has been writing her notes on the chalkboard in her room.   Which makes for some awkward conversations with the people at daycare.”

'Not sorry'

“We can do that.” Al assured him.   “We can definitely do that.”

Roy looked over as Hughes gave a thumbs up and couldn't help but wonder what else they could do.   It was a conversation for the office however, somewhere Hughes couldn't hear him asking Ed about how he bound Al's soul to his armor in excruciating detail.  

'Start tomorrow.'

“They do work for me remember?”  Roy said knowing this was a move meant to block him from asking those questions of Ed.  Knowing Hughes would be alone with the boys and tell them not to allow their knowledge, their mistakes, from being shared.  

'Too bad'

Roy stood up and sighed.  “Well then you two might as well spend the night.   I'm going to bed, some of us actually have to work in the morning.”

“I don't sleep.” Al reminded them and went over to add more chalk to the board.   “I finally have someone I can talk to.”

“I'll stay up with you.”  Ed said and sat down.    

“Goodnight then.” Roy said and relaxed a little.   It gave him time to think to himself without Hughes interrupting.

[k00kiecrumbler]

hyuroi week: day 2- rain ==================================== mood:: (╯°▽°)╯ ┻━┻

[hyuroiweek]

It’s our pleasure to announce Hyuroi Week 2019...prompts coming soon.

[strawbebehmod]

Hyuroi with a greed hughes AU?

For this ask meme:https://strawbebehmod.tumblr.com/post/161890246439/askboxmemes-1-give-me-a-pairing-2-give-me

Sorry this took so long! I was going to write this yesterday night but there was a power outage due to a nasty storm and I had to save power on my ipad to use an alarm clock to get to work on time today. Anyways, enjoy!

Although he was glad Maes was alive, there were a lot of things Roy didn’t like about this situation. From having to keep Hughes being alive a secret, to trying to keep greed under control. But the worst part was having to share him. Or rather, Hughes having to share himself with Greed. It annoyed him to no end when he wanted to talk to Maes but ended up dealing with Greed instead, especially when dealing with important matters such as figuring out how to stop the other homunculi.It also annoyed him how well his closest friend seemed to get along with the literal parasite controlling him. What could he possibly be getting out of this relationship. He was having to share his daughter with him, his wife, his whole life! And having that idiot inside your head all the time, how had Hughes not gone insane?!And yet somehow, the two not only got along, but almost seemed to work in cinque with each other at times. How was that even possible?! Just how close were they? …metaphorically, not literally. Did Greed know Maes better than he did?Roy scoffed at the thought. There was no way a homunculus could understand him better than he did! They had barely known each other for a few weeks! Roy had known Maes for years. They had fought side by side and supported each other after the war. Hell, Roy had been his best man! Still, he couldn’t shake the sour feeling in his stomach when he thought about it. Did greed know Maes better than he did? After all, they do share a mind…He shook his head. He had more important things to worry about, such as what this father person was really after.