Fic Post: Lingering

[momebie]

Good morning all! Boy kissing, it's the breakfast of champions! I've never written anything real for this fandom before. I'm kind of nervous. But hell, everyone needs sexual sorbet, even my favorite angsty alchemist.


Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Title: Lingering
Pairing/Characters: Mustang/Havoc, mention Mustang/Hughes, Riza has a cameo
Rating: R I suppose
Summary (if needed): Even though Hughes is gone, Mustang can't get over the taste of cigarettes.
Dedications: bone_fauna, who has a thing for tough blondes. marilla82 who betaed even after I told her to bugger it and go to fucking bed! (Well, maybed I didn't say fucking. Or maybe I did. There's a 50% chance.) frouella, cuz I'm blaming her for having watched FMA in the first place. Seriously. :p
A/N: OMG, this is the piece of crack that wouldn't die. It was supposed to be stupid smut, and then it grew on me. And now it's so goddamned endearing that I don't know what to do with it. Gah. But really, this is a fan work based on a fan work. Yeah, I've fallen THAT far in. >.> Anyway, I read 'Cigarette' by Kodaka Kazuma (which you can find here) the other night and this is what fell out of my brain shortly after. A sort of sequel I suppose. I wonder if the artist did another one. Inquiring minds... Anyway, because it's based on the doujinshi their titles are slightly off.




"Havoc, put that goddamned thing out. How many times have I explicitly ordered you not to smoke in the office?"

Havoc turned around in his chair and smirked at Roy. "Ten times this week, Lieutenant Colonel, but never before," he drawled. The cigarette hung precariously from his lips and ash dropped from the tip onto the floor. "Calm down will ya? What's with the sudden interest in my health?"

Roy crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into his chair. "I can assure you, it's not your health I'm worried about. You're a soldier, I don't care if you kill yourself, just go do it somewhere else."

Havoc pulled the cigarette from his lips and held it mid air for a moment. He studied it, and then dropped it onto the bare wood floor and turned back to his typewriter, leaving it to smolder out. "Fucking pretty boy ass-"

"Gentleman," Hawkeye said, softly but sternly. She didn't look up from the report she was writing. Havoc relaxed his death nail pound on the typewriter and Roy dropped his arms. His face was still set in a frown. "This is still a place of work. Please take all fighting and dying elsewhere."

The strained silence stretched out across them, only occasionally punctuated by Havoc chicken pecking at the keys and Roy slamming writing implements. Without warning, the doors to the office were flung open. Havoc turned to investigate the noise and Roy dropped his pen once and for all. Hawkeye still didn't look up from her paperwork.

Hughes ambled in, huge smile on his face, and left the door open behind him. Roy glared at him. "Major, haven't you learned to knock? And please, the door."

"Ah, yes, sorry about that." Hughes shoved the door closed with his foot and it sounded like backfire in the small room. He stood for a moment and looked at Roy expectantly. His smile widened, Roy's frown deepened and he turned back to his papers. Havoc looked from one to the other and tried to decide if the strain on their faces was intentional.

Hughes turned his lamp like eyes on Havoc. "Ah, that's who I was looking for. Just the man I wanted to see. You think I could bum a smoke Lieutenant? Seem to have left mine at…" he trailed off and his eyes flicked to Roy. Then he shook his head quickly and turned his full attention to Havoc. "The barracks, I left them at the barracks. You know what a pain it is to go all the way back there, yeah?"

"I thought you'd quit." Roy said, nose buried back in his document. His pen shook over the paper and Havoc sighed inwardly at the thought of having to decipher it later.

Havoc shrugged and produced the slightly crumpled box from his pocket. Hughes ignored Roy’s words and pulled one out and plucked a lighter from his own pocket. Havoc wondered how Hughes could have forgotten his cigarettes, but remembered his lighter. Havoc watched him watch Roy as he brought the flame closer to his face and the clean, sharp edge of the cigarette.

"Major!" Roy barked, not looking up from his paperwork.

Hughes flushed and let the lighter click out. "Right, no smoking in the office, I remember." He looked down and absentmindedly used the toe of his boot to stub out the butt Havoc had left on the floor. Then he slipped his hands and the unlit cigarette into his pockets. "Well then, I'll just be off." Hughes turned on his heel and was out the door in an instant, a half hearted "Later!" floated through it after him.

…

Roy sat on the stool, hunched over his glass at the bar, just as he did every Thursday at that time. The stools on either side of him remained empty as Hughes had a date that night and he hoped that Havoc had decided not to come at all after the way Roy had treated him at the office. It had been impulsive of Roy to kiss Havoc the other night, and far from worrying about what Jean thought of it, he was more worried about what it meant about him. Stupid to be affected this way, he knew it wouldn't last with Hughes when they'd started. He knew that it had been a bad idea. Impulsive. It might as well have been a dirty word. And it was what he liked about both Havoc and Hughes.

As if called by Mustang's thoughts, Havoc appeared over his shoulder and blew smoke across his cheek. "Going to tell me to put it out now, Lieutenant Colonel?"

"Jean." It was more of a breath than a word, and it carried with it all the force of a leaf falling from a tree.

Havoc motioned for the bartender to bring him a beer and perched on the stool to Mustang's right. "What's got up your ass, Roy? And where's Maes?"

"Date," Roy said. Havoc hunched over the bar and mimicked Mustang's posture. He grinned into the sleeve of his jacket.

"Good, good for him. Old dog. Glad someone finally found a nice girl to settle down with."

"I said date, not wife."

Havoc took another long drag from his cigarette. "I know, but it's only a matter of time really. Have you ever met anyone who didn't warm up to Maes?"

Roy let a small smile come to his lips. "No, I can't say that I have."

"Well then, it's settled."

They sat in silence amidst the noise and activity of the bar. Roy ordered more drinks and Havoc chain smoked half a pack of cigarettes. Not a word passed between them. Roy repeated the word 'impulsive' in his head until it had no meaning. It was a prayer and a threat.

"Roy?"

Havoc coughed lightly and Roy turned to look at him. "Yeah?"

Havoc was peeling the label off his bottle of beer and seemed to be concentrating very hard on a spot on the bar. "Can I uh, ask you about the other night?"

"You can," Roy said. Havoc knew that the concession did not necessarily extend to receiving an answer.

"Em…that thing. Why-, I mean." His voice trailed off and he waved his cigarette in front of his face noncommittally. "What is with the cigarettes lately anyway? You never used to care that much."

Roy sat in silence and entertained the thought of demoting Havoc then and there so he wouldn't have to talk to him ever again. So he wouldn't have to look at those eyes. "It's just too hard," he said finally.

"You asthmatic or something?" Havoc smiled again and Roy didn't know if it was out of relief or his sheer love of making fun of his superiors. "You know I'm your friend before I'm your subordinate Roy, all you have to do is ask me and I'll comply. Orders though," he gave a low chuckle, "I've always been bad with authority."

Roy sighed. "It's not the smoking Jean, and I'm sorry for snapping at you, and for being dick in general."

"What?"

Roy cut Havoc off before he had the time to make any smart-ass comments. He knew if he didn't keep going, he would never say it, and he needed so badly to say it out loud. To have proof that it had existed. "It's everything else. The smell, the feel, the…familiarity. I try hard enough to separate my private life from my work. I don't need it encroaching on me every minute of every god damned day." He turned his head away. "Fucking Maes," he muttered.

He could feel Havoc's eyes steady on the back of his head. Roy was always candid, but he never used unnecessary words, and he hardly ever talked about feelings. Feelings were out of the bounds of control. Impulsive. "Yeah," Havoc said finally. He stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray on the bar and didn't light another.

"You know the taboos, right Jean? Those things that we're not supposed to do as alchemists, those things that will get us punished if we give in to simple curiosity or the feeling of power? Well I did, and I'm being punished. But you're not, so just light another fucking cigarette and don't think about it anymore. And, I'll try to be less of an ass at work."

Havoc grunted. "I wouldn't believe that even if I saw it. But I don't need the cigarettes, it can wait."

"I do, and I can't," Roy said. Havoc looked at him sidelong and studied him. Roy tried to shake the feeling of heaviness that settled over him.

"You asked why, it was the taste. It lingers in my room and in my hair and in my mouth and I can't get over it. I can't get enough of it, and now I'll never have it again. But perhaps it's for the best. I apologize, for making you feel uncomfortable. And thank you for taking care of me."

"S'what friends are for, right?"

Roy smiled. "Something like that."

"You and Maes then?"

It was a question of if, but Roy treated it concretely, a question of when. "Never again."

Havoc chugged the rest of his beer and slammed the bottle onto the bar. Several people turned to look their way. He slipped off his stool and fiddled in his pocket for another cigarette. He lit it and took a step away. "I know what you mean about the taste. It's ridiculously hard to get over. Sometimes we all just need a little hair of the dog." He paused and took a few more quick puffs; his breath came in small bursts. "Let me know if you need any help clearing the air in your room."

He headed towards the door without looking back. As Havoc left the sound and commotion of the bar slowly filled back in around Roy. He took fifteen seconds to think on it. Then he finished his drink in one large swallow and dropped the glass on the bar. In another fifteen seconds he was out into the night air and after Havoc at a jog.

…

Havoc didn't say anything as they walked back to the barracks and Roy didn't try to fill in the silence. He was afraid that if he spoke he would remind Havoc of any of the million reasons there must be for why this was a bad idea. But then, that hadn't stopped him before. Roy had begun to think that he was the poster child for bad ideas.

Roy was uncharacteristically nervous. His palm slipped on the handle as he tried to open the door, and he tripped over the threshold. He took his time closing the door behind him, not sure of what to do once he got it closed.

As soon as the latchbolt slipped into place Havoc turned Roy around and pushed him up against the wood. A startled noise escaped from the back of Roy's throat before his brain went blank at the touch of Jean's lips on his. He clutched at the fabric of Jean's shirt and took a deep breath, trying to absorb the smell of cigarettes and beer that came from his hot breath. Havoc placed his hands against the door on either side of Roy's head and broke away. He lowered his head and rested the top of it against Roy’s chest. "I've wanted to do that ever since the other night, and I've been so afraid of what would happen if I did."

Roy hadn't quite regained his faculties of speech. To buy time he sighed a little and relinquished his grasp on Jean's shirt. He cupped his finger under Jean's chin and lifted his head so that they were looking eye to eye again. "I would have scolded you for being impulsive, especially if it had been in public. But then, I might have done this too." He leaned away from the door and into Havoc before placing his lips back on the Lieutenant’s. He ran his hands down his sides pulled the shirttail from Havoc's pants, sliding his hands up under it and over his waist.

As Roy’s fingers crept up, Havoc’s crept down and he gripped both sides of Roy’s waist in his hands and pulled him closer. Roy stumbled forward over his feet and Havoc stumbled with him. They fell onto the bed. Havoc gripped Roy’s waist tighter and laughed. “I knew you were a different person at night.”

“Mmm?” Roy hummed into Havoc’s neck as he licked at the jaw line. “You’ve seen me at night before.”

“Yeah, but not here, not alone.”

Roy worked Havoc’s shirt up and leaned back to tug it over his head. “I’m not alone now either.”

“Lucky me,” Havoc said. “But also, you’re not as in control as you are during the day.”

“I think you’re forgetting who’s on top of whom.” Roy shrugged his jacket onto the floor and started unbuttoning his shirt.

Havoc bucked his hips up and threw Roy off balance. “Too slow!” He grabbed Roy’s shoulders and rolled them over on the bed. Pinning him with his hips he pulled Roy’s half unbuttoned shirt over his head and threw it towards the desk. It hit Hughes’ ashtray and knocked it to the floor. There was a loud thud and a crack and Havoc stopped, his hands still pushing Roy’s shoulders into the bed.

“It’s nothing important,” Roy said. His breath hitched even so. He hooked a leg around Havoc’s waist and grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled him closer. Their noses bumped and Havoc laughed again, but Roy was used to laughter during sex.

Havoc pulled back. He was leaning over Roy and undoing the button on his pants when Roy saw the door to the room open out of the corner of his eye. Roy rolled his head to the side to look around Jean's shoulder, cursing himself for not thinking to lock it. Maes poked his head in and opened his mouth to speak, but the sound got caught in his throat.

Roy watched him, glassy-eyed, as his face changed several times before finally settling on something that looked like disappointment. Havoc gave Roy's pants a rough tug and pulled them down. Then he worked his way up Roy's stomach and chest with his tongue, settling on a nipple. Roy kept his eyes locked on Maes as he let out a small groan and bucked his hips forward. Maes reached a hand around the door and set the lock before finally pulling back and closing it silently behind him.

Roy felt something in him break, but it was immediately replaced by a warm rush of blood and the sound of Jean's groan reverberating off his rib cage. He reached up and cupped his hands over Jean's ears, pulling his head level with his own. He kissed him again and Jean fell flat against him, his hips pushing and working against Roy's. He groaned and slipped his tongue into Jean's mouth, relishing in the taste of him.

It wasn't the same. It was that difference between the warmth of smooth, dark whiskey and the burn of cheap vodka. But vodka could still get you drunk, and as Roy ran his tongue over Havoc's and reached for every last taste of nicotine, he decided that this was fine enough for now.


End.



Dude. I totally had to look up the word 'latchbolt'. Who uses that word!?