Track 7: Memphis Skyline
Title: Track 7: Memphis Skyline
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist.
Warnings: None.
Characters/couples: Hughes, Roy. Mentions of Gracia, Elicia and Hawkeye.
Summary: Celebration of life, promises that hopefully will never have to be taken care of and friendship. With lots of alcohol.
Rating: PG.
Track 7: Memphis Skyline
Under the Memphis skyline
always hated him for the way he looked
In the gaslight of the morning
Then came hallelujah sounding like Ophelia
for me in my room living
“A father.” Roy spat the word as if it had some kind of bad taste, instead replacing it with more vodka that Hughes poured for him (although half of it was poured over his hand). “How the fuck did you become a father? ”
Hughes hiccupped and then drank half of his shot. “See, Roy, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very, very, very much…” but he couldn’t keep on with his own joke, instead sniggering as he drank the rest of his shot, trying to push his glasses up his nose but said glasses were already over the table. Instead, he almost blinded himself but the cure for that, of course, was more booze. “Beats me.”
“I hope for the kid’s sake that she grows up to look like Gracia.” Roy said with a smirk, pouring himself another drink. “Or, you know, if Elicia starts looking like me when she grows up, it’s just the miracle of Natural Selection, okay?”
Hughes flipped him the finger but he was just too drunk to pretend that he was offended. If he remembered in the morning and he wasn’t too busy dying with hangover, he’d remedy it. Or tell Hawkeye something so she’d be sure that Roy spent most of the morning surrounded by noise. He sniggered at this, almost causing his just poured shot to drop down.
“But, Roy. If something happens to me, you’ll look after them, right?” Hughes asked in a brief moment of drunk soberness, blinking slowly.
Roy kicked Hughes’ shin. Hard.
“Don’t be stupid.” He drawled, tongue fuzzy from too much drinking but he did his best to glare to Hughes. “You’re the one taking care of me, right?”
Hughes laughed and then laughed again because when he was drunk his laugh made him laugh even more.
“Yeah…” then a smirk. “That’s it, if Hawkeye lets me, Colonel.”
Roy smirked, pouring them more booze and only about half of the drinks ended up in the table.
“Shut up, Daddy.”
“Uhhh, baby!” Sniggering and doing a bad imitation of a leer (without his glasses and all the alcohol they had in their bodies his eyes crossed just a bit), Hughes leaned towards him, voice husky and trembling with barely contained laughter, an arm around his shoulder. “I loooooove a man in uniform calling me ‘daddy’.”
Roy snorted, by some kind of miracle not chocking on his drink. “I’ll be sure to tell your wife that!”
Hughes laughed again and then a bit more, downing his drink in one gulp. “You do that. I’ll give Hawkeye the maid’s uniform.”
“Whatever happens to you after you do that won’t be my problem.” Roy said, trying not to picture Hawkeye in the maid’s uniform… and then Hughes sniggered and Roy joined in his laugh.
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist.
Warnings: None.
Characters/couples: Hughes, Roy. Mentions of Gracia, Elicia and Hawkeye.
Summary: Celebration of life, promises that hopefully will never have to be taken care of and friendship. With lots of alcohol.
Rating: PG.
Track 7: Memphis Skyline
Under the Memphis skyline
always hated him for the way he looked
In the gaslight of the morning
Then came hallelujah sounding like Ophelia
for me in my room living
“A father.” Roy spat the word as if it had some kind of bad taste, instead replacing it with more vodka that Hughes poured for him (although half of it was poured over his hand). “How the fuck did you become a father? ”
Hughes hiccupped and then drank half of his shot. “See, Roy, when a mommy and a daddy love each other very, very, very much…” but he couldn’t keep on with his own joke, instead sniggering as he drank the rest of his shot, trying to push his glasses up his nose but said glasses were already over the table. Instead, he almost blinded himself but the cure for that, of course, was more booze. “Beats me.”
“I hope for the kid’s sake that she grows up to look like Gracia.” Roy said with a smirk, pouring himself another drink. “Or, you know, if Elicia starts looking like me when she grows up, it’s just the miracle of Natural Selection, okay?”
Hughes flipped him the finger but he was just too drunk to pretend that he was offended. If he remembered in the morning and he wasn’t too busy dying with hangover, he’d remedy it. Or tell Hawkeye something so she’d be sure that Roy spent most of the morning surrounded by noise. He sniggered at this, almost causing his just poured shot to drop down.
“But, Roy. If something happens to me, you’ll look after them, right?” Hughes asked in a brief moment of drunk soberness, blinking slowly.
Roy kicked Hughes’ shin. Hard.
“Don’t be stupid.” He drawled, tongue fuzzy from too much drinking but he did his best to glare to Hughes. “You’re the one taking care of me, right?”
Hughes laughed and then laughed again because when he was drunk his laugh made him laugh even more.
“Yeah…” then a smirk. “That’s it, if Hawkeye lets me, Colonel.”
Roy smirked, pouring them more booze and only about half of the drinks ended up in the table.
“Shut up, Daddy.”
“Uhhh, baby!” Sniggering and doing a bad imitation of a leer (without his glasses and all the alcohol they had in their bodies his eyes crossed just a bit), Hughes leaned towards him, voice husky and trembling with barely contained laughter, an arm around his shoulder. “I loooooove a man in uniform calling me ‘daddy’.”
Roy snorted, by some kind of miracle not chocking on his drink. “I’ll be sure to tell your wife that!”
Hughes laughed again and then a bit more, downing his drink in one gulp. “You do that. I’ll give Hawkeye the maid’s uniform.”
“Whatever happens to you after you do that won’t be my problem.” Roy said, trying not to picture Hawkeye in the maid’s uniform… and then Hughes sniggered and Roy joined in his laugh.