Whipped Roy doused the light to the bedroom and before he’d reached the bed, Ed was asleep. Flat on his back, sprawled in a comfortable mess of limbs, hand already riding up his shirt, Ed slept the sleep of the innocent. Between the two of them, they had enough sins to keep the entire city awake, but it was rare when sleep eluded them. Tonight was Roy’s third night when, though tired, he did not feel the pull of sleep. He slipped into bed and reached out, running his fingers along the flat planes of Ed’s stomach, hoping to absorb some of his sleepiness. Perhaps tonight, if he was quiet enough, if he stayed still enough, if he could stop thinking, he could get more than an hour of rest near dawn. In his sleep, Ed turned to meet Roy’s touch, a soft sound escaping him. Roy found it hard not to resent his easy sleep, not to poke him with his fingers until he woke just so Roy wouldn’t have to bear the dark hours alone. When Ed suffered insomnia, he was quick to share his sleeplessness with Roy and it seemed only fair for Roy to wake him. Instead, Roy ran his hand up Ed’s chest to rest over his heart, feeling the steady, warm thrum of each beat. When he reached a count of four hundred beats, Roy gave up with a sigh and rolled away from Ed’s heat. He heaved himself up from the bed and stalked from the room on silent feet and made his way downstairs. At least on the lower level of the house he could make noise, turn on lights and putter around without the constant fear of waking Ed. Sometimes, on nights like this, he wished Ed had the power to put him to sleep with his alchemy—to clap his hands, lay them on Roy’s head and make everything stop for just a few hours. Alchemy was for the people, but what good was it if it couldn’t do the most simple things like heal and soothe? They could stop fires, bring water to the desert, prevent floods, but the simplest of things were beyond them and Roy wondered at the use. His eyes were too heavy to read, his mind too clouded to work and at this hour the radio waves were silent unless Roy wanted to try and find a station from Drachma or Creata. But it was too much effort and the darkness of the night was already too alien to add the sounds of a language he couldn’t understand. All Roy could do was lie back on the couch and stare at the ceiling, thinking about how desperately he wanted sleep. Sometime near dawn, Roy might have slept, but he couldn’t be sure. If he did sleep, he dreamt of being awake, worrying about not sleeping, which wasn’t restful in the least. He heard the beat of Ed’s feet pounding down the stairs, his face fresh and bright when he peeked in on Roy. With an apologetic look, he pressed a kiss to Roy’s forehead and offered to make coffee. Roy sat up, willing is body to obey him and headed for the shower. His schedule for the day was packed and he wouldn’t be able to squeeze in an attempt for a nap at all, unless he wanted to forgo lunch. Maybe if he went for a run after work he could wear himself out and tonight might be the night he could sleep. Maybe he could ask Ed to knock him out, crack him really good in the head. Unconsciousness was a lot like sleep. He had all day to plan for his next attempt. After all, it was only fifteen hours until he could try again.
Mojaunicorn