Serendipity -- Havoc x Fuery
Title: Serendipity (because I fail at titles.)
Author: freaky_zero
Genre: Humor/Smut?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Havoc x Fuery
Spoilers: Nope!
Warnings: All around bad? Sorries TT_TT But, um, no not really any warnings. Sex?
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Word Count: Approximately 5,830 (the longest thing I've ever written by myself, zomg! >3)
Written for fma_fuh_q for the month of December (Havoc).
Notes: Not currently beta'd, squallwinger is working on it right now because she is LOVE. Will be edited once it's beta'd. =P
EDIT (12:05) Now beta'd! Thank youuuuuu, squallwinger, you're my sunshine ♥!
DEAR FLIST AND RANDOM PASSERBY, THIS IS YAOI, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.
Some days, Havoc thought, just weren’t worth waking up for. Some days were worse than having teeth pulled without anesthesia, just trying to get through them. It wasn’t the big things that got to him; it was the little ones that piled one on top of the other which generally drove him over the edge.
The day had started just as any other day might. His alarm went off; he dragged himself out of bed for a quick shower and then shaved, hurrying back into his bedroom to get dressed and checking the time again to make sure he wasn’t taking more time than he should’ve been to get ready.
It wasn’t until he got into the kitchen that he realized anything was wrong. He’d been happily burning his breakfast, when he glanced up at the clock on the wall for no particular reason. The spatula he’d held clattered to the floor as he realized it read forty-five minutes later than it should have.
Rushing to the mantel, where he’d left his wristwatch the night before, he picked up the timepiece and checked it: forty-five minutes late. He groaned and ran into his bedroom and alarm clock. It still said he was on time. Havoc swore softly, and made a mad dash for his boots and house keys (which took nearly ten minutes to find); Hawkeye was going to have his head on a platter.
He couldn’t figure out how the clock by his bedside had been reset. The blond never touched the alarm, merely turned it off and on when he woke up and went to sleep, respectively. He swore again as he hurried to work, trying to dodge through the crowds of people out for early morning shopping and their own treks to work. He had never been so glad of the Military’s early schedule in his entire life, now if only he’d managed to adhere to it this particular morning.
Finally, finally, he made it to headquarters. Panting and out of breath, but he’d made it. As he rushed through the door, narrowly escaping a nasty collision with Falman, he glanced at the clock. Exactly one hour late. He groaned softly, drawing Hawkeye’s attention from her paperwork to him.
“Second Lieutenant,” she greeted softly, with a raised eyebrow at his more than a bit disheveled state. “We had decided you probably weren’t joining us today, what changed your mind?”
He colored slightly, feeling more than a bit like a kid being scolded and brought his hand up in a salute. He didn’t normally bother, but he was hoping it would show Hawkeye that he really hadn’t meant to be late and was very remorseful about it.
“Sorry,” he said softly as he lowered his arm at the First Lieutenant’s nod. “It appears my alarm clock malfunctioned while I was sleeping.”
Hawkeye stared at him for a few seconds, expression unreadable. Havoc nibbled at his lip nervously and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes, so he’d have something to worry with as the woman’s eyes bore through him. His search came up fruitless and he swore mentally, hand diving into his other pocket as Hawkeye still watched him, considering. His fingers brushed a few nickels and some pocket lint; nothing. He’d left his favorite addiction lonely and at home when he’d rushed out the door this morning.
He reached for his back pocket wondering if he had enough cash on him to buy a pack of smokes while he was on break. His hopes were severely crushed as he realized he didn’t even have his wallet. All of a sudden he felt like crying. How in the hell was he supposed to survive the day without his cigarettes?
Then Hawkeye turned back to her paperwork and Havoc felt his spirit lift slightly. She was going to let him off with just the small verbal reprimand? He bounced on his heels, turning to move towards his desk when Hawkeye’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“We’ll speak of this before you leave for today,” she said softly, not pausing in her shuffling of paperwork.
Damn. His mother had always told him not to count his eggs before they’d hatched. His father had only ever mentioned having to be lucky enough to get eggs first. Havoc thought he had luck, plenty of it. The only problem was it wasn’t exactly the good kind. Sighing, he trudged to his desk, liking the prospect of facing the day less and less as the minutes began to tick by.
He supposed he was lucky she hadn’t shot him as soon as he’d walked into the door and told him that he now had something to be late because of. He could picture Hawkeye doing something like that. He had nightmares about it that woke him up at three in the morning and left him too afraid to fall back asleep because he might oversleep. At least, he might have had nightmares about it if he’d been the type of guy who let small worries bother him.
As it was he could sleep through anything short of an explosion going off right next to his ear. Life was too short to sweat the small stuff and the fear of Hawkeye shooting him had been moved to the list of small stuff. She wouldn’t aim to kill, after all.
Reaching his desk, he bit his lip at the small box that was sitting innocently in the middle of it. Lady Ophelia. His favorite brand of cigarettes. The kind that were way too expensive to smoke on a regular basis. In fact, he only bought them for himself around once a year (twice, if he’d had a particularly bad year) and savored them while he had them.
He picked up the carton and brought it to his nose, inhaling the unique scent of orange and nicotine that wafted up to greet him. Sighing, Havoc settled into his chair and dropped the pack of cigarettes back onto his desk, burying a hand in his bangs and tugging on his hair. Lady Ophelias showing up on his desk only meant one thing. His latest girlfriend had been by, and she’d left with Mustang.
The blond sighed again, leaning back in his seat. It was this that had escalated to more than, ‘the small stuff’. This was the third girl in as many months that had been lured away from him by Mustang. He pulled his spare lighter out of his desk, flicking it open and shut, open and shut. This was the third girl that Mustang had lured away, but the fourth one he’d dated.
The third woman he’d dated had actually been interested in him, but after the first and second girlfriends had walked happily away with his superior officer, he’d been a little wary… He’d been a bit…well, cold, if he were to use Katherine’s words. So he’d worked on being emotionally available for Jen, he didn’t want the same thing to happen again.
And it had seemed like it was working out, she’d been flirty, cute, sweet, and completely interested in him. Until she’d run into Mustang this morning, apparently. He picked up the peace offering nicotine and pulled the box open, drawing out one perfect example of cigarette. He pinched the filter between his lips, flicked his lighter open and-
“No smoking in the building, Second Lieutenant,” Hawkeye said, not bothering to look up from the file she was reading.
Right.
Havoc groaned and tossed his lighter down on his desk.
“I wasn’t going to light it,” he mumbled around the filter.
Hawkeye glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. Flushing, the blonde plucked the cigarette from his lips and tucked it behind his ear to smoke the first chance he got, the pack and his lighter were slipped into his pocket.
“Do you know who left these on my desk?” he asked after a few moments, dragging his own paperwork out at the same time.
It was a question he would love to have answered, who left the packs of Lady Ophelia on his desk. It wasn’t a regular happening, sometimes five girlfriends in a row would dump him and nothing would show up on his desk other than more files and forms that needed to be looked over and signed and presented to Mustang.
Mostly they seemed to show up when he’d been having a particularly bad time of it and had a girlfriend dump him on top of everything else that was going wrong. It was almost like he was being wooed with his favorite brand of cigarettes. Unfortunately, whenever he tried to figure out who it was that was doing the wooing, the answer was always the same.
“They were on your desk before I got here,” Hawkeye said, turning a page in the report she was reading over.
Havoc suppressed yet another sigh. Of course, he thought, they were always on his desk before she arrived. Generally, they were scheduled to come into work at the same time. It was Mustang, Breda, Falman, and Fuery who clocked in nearly an hour before he and Hawkeye did.
He let his gaze wander over three of the four men in question. Jean Havoc was not a stupid man. Then again, he wasn’t exactly an intelligence officer like Lt. Colonel Hughes, either. He knew it had to be someone in Mustang’s regimen; no one else could slip in and out of their office undetected. The question was, who?
Ed and Al were ruled out on the basis of, one, being to young to buy cigarettes and, two, being out of town more often than not when the smokes appeared. Mustang was mostly ruled out because it was generally rather obvious that he was not at all sorry about whisking away Havoc’s girlfriends. It was not Hawkeye because they arrived together and left together on most days.
Which left three suspects: Breda, Falman, and Fuery. Normally, Havoc tried not to think of what any of the three men would stand to gain by buying him cigarettes; it gave him a headache to consider, but at the moment he had nothing better to do. Well, not unless you counted the paperwork sitting in front of him, and he had the rest of the day for that.
“Did you guys see who put these on my desk?” he asked, making sure to shuffle his papers as if he were busy; to keep Hawkeye from breathing down his neck about it.
“Nope,” was grunted from Breda’s corner; he looked like he was trying to sneak a few bites of some snack with out being caught.
Falman didn’t even bother to look up from his work while giving a short shake of his head. His eyes settled on Fuery, who had looked up from the two way radio he’d been working on startled and flushing. The younger man shrugged his shoulders a bit with a ‘what-can-you-do’ grin, before turning back to the task at hand.
A frown tugged at the blond’s lips. Same old, same old. Maybe it was time he tried different questioning tactics.
“So…,” he said, dragging the word out with a drawl. “Did one of you leave them?”
Hawkeye didn’t bother glancing up from her paperwork, but the question had a very different effect on the three others in the room.
Breda choked on whatever it was he’d been trying to eat and shot the blond a glare. “Why in the hell would we leave you expensive smokes?” he spluttered, wiping crumbs off of his uniform.
Falman was staring at Havoc a little curiously and nodded his head at Breda’s words. “What could we possibly stand to gain from leaving you those?” He asked, with a nod towards the cigarette tucked behind the Second Lieutenant’s ear. “They’re expensive, and they’re not really allowed in the building, besides,” he added, as much of a stickler for rules and regulations as Hawkeye.
“Smoking is bad for you,” Fuery added softly, stopping the blond from tucking the cigarette between his lips again.
“Right,” Havoc said, putting it back behind his ear as the room settled back into the silence of those focused on what they were doing.
He didn’t start his own work just yet, taking a few moments to stare at Fuery. The younger man had always been a bit of an enigma to Havoc. He would blush at some things that the other men normally joked about and other times he would say things that left the rest of the room slack jawed. But he was kind to a fault and, well, the brunet was pretty, for a man.
All brown doe-eyes behind his glasses and more than a little naïve; slim and short, but obviously well defined from what the blond could tell from the times he’d seen Kain in civilian dress or changing in the locker rooms… To say that Havoc wasn’t interested would be more than a bit of a lie, but he pushed the thoughts away.
He’d found out that those kinds of thoughts weren’t generally accepted in high school, when his best friend’s father had discovered them kissing in his son’s bedroom. And he’d found out the hard way. After that beating he’d been glad his own father wasn’t around to find out what he’d been doing. Not that it had really deterred him in anyway, the experience merely made him a bit more cautious about what he was doing, where, and who it was with.
Havoc wasn’t about to go hitting on his co-worker, however, because if Fuery didn’t attempt to kick his ass, he was sure the Military would. He was just as interested in women, and that didn’t generally end in physical beatings (assuming he hadn’t hit on one with a large, burly boyfriend) or being court-martialed. Though, the heartbreak was starting to get to him, just a bit.
The blond doubted Fuery was the one leaving the cigarettes on his desk. No matter how nice the attention would be, he just couldn’t picture it. Fuery, in his mind, was about as inept at relationships as he was: same-sex relationships or otherwise. And actually courting someone? He just…couldn’t see it. His attention drifted back to Falman for a brief second, but he shook his head. It wasn’t Falman, he didn’t even want to think about it being Falman.
Which meant, it all came down to Breda. His frown grew deeper as he tried to think of why his friend would be leaving his favorite pack of smokes on his desk on a regular basis. There was definitely a plus in it for the other man, he wouldn’t have to listen to Jean moan about losing yet another girlfriend if the blonde was preoccupied with the Lady Ophelia, but why not buy them every time he lost a girlfriend if that were the case?
Unless of course he couldn’t afford them, which was Havoc’s main quibble about buying the brand. They were rather pricy and Havoc wasn’t really earning much more than enough to make ends meet. The cigarette he’d pulled from the pack earlier found itself between his lips once more and he rolled the filter between his lips thoughtfully. He really didn’t think it was Breda. He couldn’t think of the other man as being the type to spend so much on smokes for him.
This had been going on for nearly two years now and Havoc wasn’t any closer to figuring out who it was than he had been when it started. Hell, maybe it was Mustang. Maybe it was the smug bastard’s way of rubbing his nose in the fact that he could take all of Havoc’s women.
The blond wished futilely that he could light the cigarette and turned to his work, figuring he’d wasted enough time for one day.
-----oO0Oo-----
The question was still on Havoc’s mind as he walked home in the pouring rain, several hours later than he normally would have. That and, why in the hell had he left his lighter in his desk. Not that it would have done him much good with this flood falling all around him. He shivered as the wind blew, cursing the fact that he was already soaked through barely a block from headquarters. It would be a miracle if he made it home without the water ruining his precious pack of Lady Ophelias.
Glancing up, he saw that he wasn’t the only poor idiot caught out in the rain, but he did notice that whoever was hurrying towards him was lucky enough to at least have an umbrella. He glanced back at his feet, not appreciating the cold raindrops hitting him in the face and hunched his shoulders to protect himself from them, as best he could. He ought to start carrying an umbrella around with him everywhere, considering he never listened to the weather forecast.
A sharp elbow caught him in the side as the other rain-walker passed and Havoc lost his balance. He groaned softly in pain as he hit the ground, suddenly looking up at the sky that had previously been blowing rain on his face, whatever parts of him that hadn’t been thoroughly wet, soaked through as the puddles from the sidewalk leeched into his clothing.
“Oh no!” a soft voice exclaimed, presumably the owner of the elbow that had brought him down.
And then Havoc was no longer being pelted in the face by cold, wet droplets, rather he was staring up at one Kain Fuery and his umbrella.
“L-Lieutenant Havoc?” the younger man squeaked, horror crossing his normally shyly smiling face. “I’m so sorry…”
Jean waved the apology off. “It’s fine,” he said, not bothering to pick himself up off the sidewalk. “Just do me a favor and kill me.” After the day he’d had, he was only half joking.
Unfortunately his words only seemed to make Fuery even more distressed and he found himself being pulled to his feet by the brunet, and pushed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of where he’d been headed. It was odd, Havoc thought as Fuery stretched to hold the umbrella over both their heads, that the brunet somehow smelled of Lady Ophelia cigarettes.
“My apartment is just a few seconds away, we’ll get you dried off and warm, sir.”
Havoc only protested a bit, tugging on his arm in an effort to free himself from the other man’s grip.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he said, glancing in the direction his apartment was. “It’s a short walk and, really, the storm probably won’t let up… It’d be stupid for me to get dry only to walk home again in the rain…”
Fuery shook his head, dragging the blonde into a cheery looking building and upstairs. “I have an extra umbrella you can use, and if it’s still this bad out once your clothes are dry, you can just stay the night,” he said as they moved to a stop in front of a door that Havoc assumed was the smaller man’s.
“Here,” Kain said, shoving a large bag of groceries that Havoc hadn’t seen previously at his chest to hold. The brunet’s umbrella was still in his free hand and Jean took a moment to wonder how exactly Fuery had maneuvered them all into the building with such ease as the other man dug in his pocket for keys.
It was probably one of those great mysteries of the world, Havoc decided as the apartment door swung open. Women could fit a household into their handbags, Roy Mustang had women flock to him like flies to honey for no real apparent reason, and Kain Fuery could do things that left Jean Havoc’s head spinning in bewilderment.
Fuery took the bag from him and ushered him through the door before hurrying past him into what Havoc assumed was the kitchen.
“Stay there,” the younger man called over his shoulder. “Take off what’s wet and I’ll bring you a towel.”
Jean sighed, peeling off his clothes down to his boxer shorts; though they were soaked too, they kept him at least a bit modest. He rocked on his heels nervously as he waited for the other man to re-enter the room, not sure of what he should do or how he should act. Fuery was cute, but he was hardly some girl. And Havoc doubted that Fuery had invited him in for what he was generally invited into a house for.
The brunet reappeared with a towel and offered it to him with a faint blush and Havoc grinned, suddenly more at ease as he realized that Fuery wasn’t as comfortable with inviting him in as he’d seemed.
“Underwear too,” Kain ordered as the blond took the towel, and the grin faded into a blush of his own.
He stripped down completely as Fuery conveniently looked away to straighten a few things across the room and wrapped the large fluffy towel around his waist.
“So…,” he said softly, unsure of what he should do now.
Fuery glanced over at him and hurried over, gathering his clothes off of the floor. “I’ll hang these in front of the radiator,” he said softly. “They should be dry within a couple of hours or so. Sit down and I’ll make some tea to warm you up,” he offered, heading out of the room.
Havoc opened his mouth to tell the smaller man that he’d rather have coffee, but then closed it. He’d really made too much trouble for the other soldier already and he doubted a protest would do any good anyway, seeing as they hadn’t yet. He sat on the couch, plucking at the edges of his towel anxiously. It was rather nerve wracking to be practically nude on someone else’s couch; man, woman, or otherwise.
Briefly, he wondered again about his cigarettes. Who had left them on his desk and whether or not Fuery would allow him to smoke in his house. He really needed a smoke right now. Between the hour long tongue lashing Hawkeye had given him before she’d left and having to finish his work afterwards…then the brief walk towards home without any nicotine, not to mention this business of sitting on his co-worker’s couch naked, well. He could really do with a cigarette.
The blonde stamped on the urge however, as Fuery came out of the kitchen with a tray holding two steaming cups of tea and headed towards him. Havoc gave the other man a sheepish grin, a little ashamed he’d put the man out, but grateful for the attention all the same. Flushing, Fuery looked away, not quite paying enough attention to where he was stepping as he moved forward with the tea.
He figured he should have expected having hot tea dumped all over him, the scenario smacked of his brand of luck. Still, it was rather unexpected and he hissed in pain as the blistering liquid splashed onto his chest.
Kain yelped loudly, reacting automatically to the other man’s hiss of discomfort by dragging the tea towel he’d brought into the room out of his pocket and sopping up the liquid burning the blond’s skin from the best position he could-- Havoc’s lap.
While Fuery might not have realized just where he was sitting as he frantically tried to help out the other man, Jean noticed. He noticed intently. As the brunet had climbed into his lap, the sting of the hot tea had disappeared, his senses filled with the scent of the other man. Tobacco and orange; Lady Ophelia.
He bit his lip, thinking it was probably just the smell of the tea and a product of his over active imagination. If the tea was Earl Grey that would explain one half of the scent invading his mind, and he had really been craving that cigarette before Kain had come into the room.
But as Fuery moved in closer to the blond, inspecting the slightly reddened skin of his chest, brushing the rough terry cloth over his nipple to pull away a stray droplet of tea, Havoc couldn’t help moving closer to the smaller man to make certain that it wasn’t just his imagination.
As the blond leaned into him, Kain realized just where he was sitting; he flushed and glanced up at the other man opening his mouth to apologize, just when Jean moved forward to capture his lips. Being a man to not waste any opportunity, Havoc plunged his tongue past sweet and faintly sticky lips into the brunet’s mouth.
A faint voice in the back of his mind wondered if he knew what the hell he was doing, but he ignored it as he moved his tongue against Fuery’s, reveling in the fact that the smaller man tasted of Lady Ophelia and peppermints. He moaned softly when the younger soldier began responding to the kiss, pressing their mouths closer together and tangling their tongues as Havoc’s hand crept up to cup his cheek.
They were panting when they broke apart, Fuery’s eyes staring wide and unfocused into Havoc’s. The blond swallowed thickly, fascinated by the blush staining Kain’s cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t know what came over me…”
Kain’s eyes blinked owlishly at him from behind his glasses, taking a few seconds to focus on the blond. He nibbled on his bottom lip, which made Havoc want to kiss him all over again, but he held off, unsure of how the brunet would respond to the whole situation. Fuery blushed deeply, but leaned up against the taller man.
“Don’t be,” he murmured, pressing their lips together again.
Havoc groaned into the other man’s mouth, arms going around Kain’s waist as they explored each other’s mouths again, taking their time with this kiss, tongues sliding together like caresses. When they pulled apart this time, the brunet’s hands were wandering across Jean’s chest and Havoc’s own hands were sliding beneath the smaller man’s shirt.
“Bedroom?” Havoc whispered questioningly, as he tugged the shirt over Fuery’s head, the other man lifting his arms willingly.
“Too far,” Kain mumbled back, connecting their lips again as he pushed the taller man down on the couch, hands wandering paths over his skin, even as Havoc’s own hands made their way to the fastening of Fuery’s pants.
The brunet kicked his pants off his legs and gasped softly as one warm hand dove past the waistband of his underwear and wrapped itself around his burgeoning erection with a warm stroke. Havoc stroked Fuery’s cock a bit hesitantly, not exactly familiar with the mechanics of this, but wanting it enough to try to make it as good as possible for the other man.
How long had it been since he’d even had sex, he wondered as Kain bucked into his hand with a soft moan. It had been a while, he knew but the train of thought fizzled off as a wet, warm tongue moved over his nipple.
He tightened his grip on the smaller man’s cock and stroked a bit more quickly, thought processes thoroughly derailed by the talented mouth that had enclosed one nipple, teasing it every few moments or so with a nibble. Kain’s hips moved into Havoc’s grip frantically and the brunet slid a hand down to rub the taller man’s cock through the rough terrycloth.
Jean groaned, and rocked into the friction against his erection, his free hand trailing down Fuery’s side and over the smooth globes of his ass to press teasingly against his entrance as his thumb rubbed over the head of Kain’s member.
The brunet stiffened above him with a gasp and Havoc found his fingers covered in a warm, sticky fluid. Fuery had come, and it was because of him. The thought struck through him like lightning, sharpening his arousal that much more as Kain’s palm still rubbed him through the towel. He arched into the other man with a whimper, the touch driving him to distraction, but not really enough to bring him off.
Fuery moved away from him and Jean thought he was somehow being punished until he felt the other man’s hand wrap around his wrist and a tongue lick roughly up his palm and over his fingers. Kain sucked each of the blond’s fingers into his mouth, one by one, cleaning the remains of his orgasm off the other man’s hand.
Havoc wondered if he was in nirvana, but then Fuery was moving again, attention turned away from his fingers. A soft brush of lips found his chin and then his mouth, and they were kissing again, the smaller man tasting of something new something uniquely his own, hands that weren’t his own tugging at the towel around his waist.
“Lift your hips,” Kain murmured against his lips, pulling the offending cloth away as soon as Jean had followed his directive.
As soon as the towel was gone, Jean’s lips were abandoned and Fuery began moving down his body with nibbles and nips, soft kisses and brief sucking sensations until a firm stroke made its way up his cock. Oh god, Havoc thought, hands grasping the couch cushions beneath him tightly; I’ve died and gone to heaven. He had to have, he was positive, because in all his years of life nothing this spectacular had ever happened to him.
Kain was as talented with his tongue as he was with mechanics, teasing Havoc’s cock until the blond thought he would explode with the pleasure of it all. He ran his taste buds roughly over the sensitive crown of Jean’s erection, pressing the tip of his tongue into the slit that was leaking pre-cum into his mouth. His hands were busy also, one stroking the inside of the larger man’s thighs lightly, while the other caressed his balls. He took in as much of the member into his mouth as he could, humming softly around it, savoring the taste.
Havoc tensed, toes curling as Kain hummed around him. His eyes clenched shut, teeth sinking into his lip. He was going to…going to… He gave a ragged sob as cool air suddenly engulfed his cock, eyes wrenching themselves open in surprise.
“Kain…?” he asked softly as the other man moved off of him.
Fuery smiled and grabbed Havoc’s wrist, pulling the blond off the couch. “Bedroom,” he said comfortingly, leading the taller man down the hall with a brief pause to kick of the boxers that were still hanging low on his hips.
Havoc followed the brunet with weak knees, cursing his sense of timing. He’d been so close… He allowed the other man to pull him into a room and found himself suddenly laying on a bed, Fuery’s warm body covering him once more. They kissed again and small tube was pressed into his hand. Havoc pulled away, panting, and blinked at it. Lubricant. He flushed and glanced at the brunet who was looking at him in a way he’d never seen before. It made Jean want to devour him.
He pulled Kain to him again, uncapping the lube with one hand and wrapping his fingers around the other man’s renewed erection with his other for a few brief strokes. Once he had the lubricant uncapped, however, he pulled his hand away, spreading the slick substance onto his fingers and moving to press one of them into the smaller man carefully.
Kain gave a soft gasp and pushed his forehead against the junction of Havoc’s neck and shoulder as the digit slowly invaded him. Havoc gave the brunet a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, wiggling the finger inside of him and pulling it out of him slightly to press it back in before he added a second finger, scissoring them slightly as he moved them in and out of the other man.
Fuery, for his part, pressed back onto the digits, crying out loudly as Havoc brushed his prostate. “Now,” he said with a growl, thrusting back against Jean’s hand, more than prepared for what was to come.
The blond swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling his hand away and grabbing the lube once more, to smear it onto his cock as Fuery moved to his hands and knees in front of him. It took all of his will power not to come at just the sight of the other man, warm and willing in front of him.
He took a deep breath, then pressed into Kain, amazed as he slowly sank into the heat at how tight Fuery was surrounding him. He panted softly into the smaller soldier’s ear, wrapping his hand around the other’s erection as he began to thrust. He started slowly at first, but began to move more quickly as his lust overtook him, his hand moving in time with his hips.
Their torsos slid slickly against one another and Havoc found himself fast losing control, panting as he moved in and out of the other man. It was Kain, however, who again fell over the edge first, not being able to take the double stimulation of Havoc’s cock brushing his prostate and the fist around his own erection, he cried out as he came, tensing and tightening around Jean. Havoc was pulled into orgasm as Fuery tightened around him, his vision blurring and limbs stiffening as he was dragged into oblivion.
Havoc panted as he struggled to keep from collapsing on the man beneath him, pulling himself out of the brunet and falling to the side, with a soft gasp. Kain sighed and moved against the blond briefly, nuzzling directly beneath his collar bone. Jean gave a soft sound and allowed his eyes to slide shut, prepared to drift off, until he felt the warmth move away from his side and drag open a drawer on the bedside table.
The blond didn’t bother opening his eyes, whatever Fuery wanted to do now was his priority, Havoc was more than happy to bask in the afterglow. That was, until he heard the familiar rasp of a lighter. One blue eye pried itself open and focused on the man beside him, who was currently lighting one very fine, tobacco and orange Lady Ophelia blend cigarette.
Fuery glanced over at him, pulling an eyebrow up in question. “Want a smoke?” he offered blithely, with a half grin.
Havoc choked on his laughter, pushing himself up on his elbow to snatch the cigarette from between Fuery’s lips. He grinned at the smaller man, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Lady Ophelia and peppermint and sex. Not a bad combination.
Smirking, he tucked the filter between his lips and took a deep drag.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows.
Some days, Havoc thought as he took another long drag and pulled Fuery to his side, really weren’t worth getting up for. But then again, some days were.
Author: freaky_zero
Genre: Humor/Smut?
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Havoc x Fuery
Spoilers: Nope!
Warnings: All around bad? Sorries TT_TT But, um, no not really any warnings. Sex?
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Word Count: Approximately 5,830 (the longest thing I've ever written by myself, zomg! >3)
Written for fma_fuh_q for the month of December (Havoc).
Notes: Not currently beta'd, squallwinger is working on it right now because she is LOVE. Will be edited once it's beta'd. =P
EDIT (12:05) Now beta'd! Thank youuuuuu, squallwinger, you're my sunshine ♥!
DEAR FLIST AND RANDOM PASSERBY, THIS IS YAOI, DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ.
Some days, Havoc thought, just weren’t worth waking up for. Some days were worse than having teeth pulled without anesthesia, just trying to get through them. It wasn’t the big things that got to him; it was the little ones that piled one on top of the other which generally drove him over the edge.
The day had started just as any other day might. His alarm went off; he dragged himself out of bed for a quick shower and then shaved, hurrying back into his bedroom to get dressed and checking the time again to make sure he wasn’t taking more time than he should’ve been to get ready.
It wasn’t until he got into the kitchen that he realized anything was wrong. He’d been happily burning his breakfast, when he glanced up at the clock on the wall for no particular reason. The spatula he’d held clattered to the floor as he realized it read forty-five minutes later than it should have.
Rushing to the mantel, where he’d left his wristwatch the night before, he picked up the timepiece and checked it: forty-five minutes late. He groaned and ran into his bedroom and alarm clock. It still said he was on time. Havoc swore softly, and made a mad dash for his boots and house keys (which took nearly ten minutes to find); Hawkeye was going to have his head on a platter.
He couldn’t figure out how the clock by his bedside had been reset. The blond never touched the alarm, merely turned it off and on when he woke up and went to sleep, respectively. He swore again as he hurried to work, trying to dodge through the crowds of people out for early morning shopping and their own treks to work. He had never been so glad of the Military’s early schedule in his entire life, now if only he’d managed to adhere to it this particular morning.
Finally, finally, he made it to headquarters. Panting and out of breath, but he’d made it. As he rushed through the door, narrowly escaping a nasty collision with Falman, he glanced at the clock. Exactly one hour late. He groaned softly, drawing Hawkeye’s attention from her paperwork to him.
“Second Lieutenant,” she greeted softly, with a raised eyebrow at his more than a bit disheveled state. “We had decided you probably weren’t joining us today, what changed your mind?”
He colored slightly, feeling more than a bit like a kid being scolded and brought his hand up in a salute. He didn’t normally bother, but he was hoping it would show Hawkeye that he really hadn’t meant to be late and was very remorseful about it.
“Sorry,” he said softly as he lowered his arm at the First Lieutenant’s nod. “It appears my alarm clock malfunctioned while I was sleeping.”
Hawkeye stared at him for a few seconds, expression unreadable. Havoc nibbled at his lip nervously and reached into his pocket for his cigarettes, so he’d have something to worry with as the woman’s eyes bore through him. His search came up fruitless and he swore mentally, hand diving into his other pocket as Hawkeye still watched him, considering. His fingers brushed a few nickels and some pocket lint; nothing. He’d left his favorite addiction lonely and at home when he’d rushed out the door this morning.
He reached for his back pocket wondering if he had enough cash on him to buy a pack of smokes while he was on break. His hopes were severely crushed as he realized he didn’t even have his wallet. All of a sudden he felt like crying. How in the hell was he supposed to survive the day without his cigarettes?
Then Hawkeye turned back to her paperwork and Havoc felt his spirit lift slightly. She was going to let him off with just the small verbal reprimand? He bounced on his heels, turning to move towards his desk when Hawkeye’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“We’ll speak of this before you leave for today,” she said softly, not pausing in her shuffling of paperwork.
Damn. His mother had always told him not to count his eggs before they’d hatched. His father had only ever mentioned having to be lucky enough to get eggs first. Havoc thought he had luck, plenty of it. The only problem was it wasn’t exactly the good kind. Sighing, he trudged to his desk, liking the prospect of facing the day less and less as the minutes began to tick by.
He supposed he was lucky she hadn’t shot him as soon as he’d walked into the door and told him that he now had something to be late because of. He could picture Hawkeye doing something like that. He had nightmares about it that woke him up at three in the morning and left him too afraid to fall back asleep because he might oversleep. At least, he might have had nightmares about it if he’d been the type of guy who let small worries bother him.
As it was he could sleep through anything short of an explosion going off right next to his ear. Life was too short to sweat the small stuff and the fear of Hawkeye shooting him had been moved to the list of small stuff. She wouldn’t aim to kill, after all.
Reaching his desk, he bit his lip at the small box that was sitting innocently in the middle of it. Lady Ophelia. His favorite brand of cigarettes. The kind that were way too expensive to smoke on a regular basis. In fact, he only bought them for himself around once a year (twice, if he’d had a particularly bad year) and savored them while he had them.
He picked up the carton and brought it to his nose, inhaling the unique scent of orange and nicotine that wafted up to greet him. Sighing, Havoc settled into his chair and dropped the pack of cigarettes back onto his desk, burying a hand in his bangs and tugging on his hair. Lady Ophelias showing up on his desk only meant one thing. His latest girlfriend had been by, and she’d left with Mustang.
The blond sighed again, leaning back in his seat. It was this that had escalated to more than, ‘the small stuff’. This was the third girl in as many months that had been lured away from him by Mustang. He pulled his spare lighter out of his desk, flicking it open and shut, open and shut. This was the third girl that Mustang had lured away, but the fourth one he’d dated.
The third woman he’d dated had actually been interested in him, but after the first and second girlfriends had walked happily away with his superior officer, he’d been a little wary… He’d been a bit…well, cold, if he were to use Katherine’s words. So he’d worked on being emotionally available for Jen, he didn’t want the same thing to happen again.
And it had seemed like it was working out, she’d been flirty, cute, sweet, and completely interested in him. Until she’d run into Mustang this morning, apparently. He picked up the peace offering nicotine and pulled the box open, drawing out one perfect example of cigarette. He pinched the filter between his lips, flicked his lighter open and-
“No smoking in the building, Second Lieutenant,” Hawkeye said, not bothering to look up from the file she was reading.
Right.
Havoc groaned and tossed his lighter down on his desk.
“I wasn’t going to light it,” he mumbled around the filter.
Hawkeye glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. Flushing, the blonde plucked the cigarette from his lips and tucked it behind his ear to smoke the first chance he got, the pack and his lighter were slipped into his pocket.
“Do you know who left these on my desk?” he asked after a few moments, dragging his own paperwork out at the same time.
It was a question he would love to have answered, who left the packs of Lady Ophelia on his desk. It wasn’t a regular happening, sometimes five girlfriends in a row would dump him and nothing would show up on his desk other than more files and forms that needed to be looked over and signed and presented to Mustang.
Mostly they seemed to show up when he’d been having a particularly bad time of it and had a girlfriend dump him on top of everything else that was going wrong. It was almost like he was being wooed with his favorite brand of cigarettes. Unfortunately, whenever he tried to figure out who it was that was doing the wooing, the answer was always the same.
“They were on your desk before I got here,” Hawkeye said, turning a page in the report she was reading over.
Havoc suppressed yet another sigh. Of course, he thought, they were always on his desk before she arrived. Generally, they were scheduled to come into work at the same time. It was Mustang, Breda, Falman, and Fuery who clocked in nearly an hour before he and Hawkeye did.
He let his gaze wander over three of the four men in question. Jean Havoc was not a stupid man. Then again, he wasn’t exactly an intelligence officer like Lt. Colonel Hughes, either. He knew it had to be someone in Mustang’s regimen; no one else could slip in and out of their office undetected. The question was, who?
Ed and Al were ruled out on the basis of, one, being to young to buy cigarettes and, two, being out of town more often than not when the smokes appeared. Mustang was mostly ruled out because it was generally rather obvious that he was not at all sorry about whisking away Havoc’s girlfriends. It was not Hawkeye because they arrived together and left together on most days.
Which left three suspects: Breda, Falman, and Fuery. Normally, Havoc tried not to think of what any of the three men would stand to gain by buying him cigarettes; it gave him a headache to consider, but at the moment he had nothing better to do. Well, not unless you counted the paperwork sitting in front of him, and he had the rest of the day for that.
“Did you guys see who put these on my desk?” he asked, making sure to shuffle his papers as if he were busy; to keep Hawkeye from breathing down his neck about it.
“Nope,” was grunted from Breda’s corner; he looked like he was trying to sneak a few bites of some snack with out being caught.
Falman didn’t even bother to look up from his work while giving a short shake of his head. His eyes settled on Fuery, who had looked up from the two way radio he’d been working on startled and flushing. The younger man shrugged his shoulders a bit with a ‘what-can-you-do’ grin, before turning back to the task at hand.
A frown tugged at the blond’s lips. Same old, same old. Maybe it was time he tried different questioning tactics.
“So…,” he said, dragging the word out with a drawl. “Did one of you leave them?”
Hawkeye didn’t bother glancing up from her paperwork, but the question had a very different effect on the three others in the room.
Breda choked on whatever it was he’d been trying to eat and shot the blond a glare. “Why in the hell would we leave you expensive smokes?” he spluttered, wiping crumbs off of his uniform.
Falman was staring at Havoc a little curiously and nodded his head at Breda’s words. “What could we possibly stand to gain from leaving you those?” He asked, with a nod towards the cigarette tucked behind the Second Lieutenant’s ear. “They’re expensive, and they’re not really allowed in the building, besides,” he added, as much of a stickler for rules and regulations as Hawkeye.
“Smoking is bad for you,” Fuery added softly, stopping the blond from tucking the cigarette between his lips again.
“Right,” Havoc said, putting it back behind his ear as the room settled back into the silence of those focused on what they were doing.
He didn’t start his own work just yet, taking a few moments to stare at Fuery. The younger man had always been a bit of an enigma to Havoc. He would blush at some things that the other men normally joked about and other times he would say things that left the rest of the room slack jawed. But he was kind to a fault and, well, the brunet was pretty, for a man.
All brown doe-eyes behind his glasses and more than a little naïve; slim and short, but obviously well defined from what the blond could tell from the times he’d seen Kain in civilian dress or changing in the locker rooms… To say that Havoc wasn’t interested would be more than a bit of a lie, but he pushed the thoughts away.
He’d found out that those kinds of thoughts weren’t generally accepted in high school, when his best friend’s father had discovered them kissing in his son’s bedroom. And he’d found out the hard way. After that beating he’d been glad his own father wasn’t around to find out what he’d been doing. Not that it had really deterred him in anyway, the experience merely made him a bit more cautious about what he was doing, where, and who it was with.
Havoc wasn’t about to go hitting on his co-worker, however, because if Fuery didn’t attempt to kick his ass, he was sure the Military would. He was just as interested in women, and that didn’t generally end in physical beatings (assuming he hadn’t hit on one with a large, burly boyfriend) or being court-martialed. Though, the heartbreak was starting to get to him, just a bit.
The blond doubted Fuery was the one leaving the cigarettes on his desk. No matter how nice the attention would be, he just couldn’t picture it. Fuery, in his mind, was about as inept at relationships as he was: same-sex relationships or otherwise. And actually courting someone? He just…couldn’t see it. His attention drifted back to Falman for a brief second, but he shook his head. It wasn’t Falman, he didn’t even want to think about it being Falman.
Which meant, it all came down to Breda. His frown grew deeper as he tried to think of why his friend would be leaving his favorite pack of smokes on his desk on a regular basis. There was definitely a plus in it for the other man, he wouldn’t have to listen to Jean moan about losing yet another girlfriend if the blonde was preoccupied with the Lady Ophelia, but why not buy them every time he lost a girlfriend if that were the case?
Unless of course he couldn’t afford them, which was Havoc’s main quibble about buying the brand. They were rather pricy and Havoc wasn’t really earning much more than enough to make ends meet. The cigarette he’d pulled from the pack earlier found itself between his lips once more and he rolled the filter between his lips thoughtfully. He really didn’t think it was Breda. He couldn’t think of the other man as being the type to spend so much on smokes for him.
This had been going on for nearly two years now and Havoc wasn’t any closer to figuring out who it was than he had been when it started. Hell, maybe it was Mustang. Maybe it was the smug bastard’s way of rubbing his nose in the fact that he could take all of Havoc’s women.
The blond wished futilely that he could light the cigarette and turned to his work, figuring he’d wasted enough time for one day.
-----oO0Oo-----
The question was still on Havoc’s mind as he walked home in the pouring rain, several hours later than he normally would have. That and, why in the hell had he left his lighter in his desk. Not that it would have done him much good with this flood falling all around him. He shivered as the wind blew, cursing the fact that he was already soaked through barely a block from headquarters. It would be a miracle if he made it home without the water ruining his precious pack of Lady Ophelias.
Glancing up, he saw that he wasn’t the only poor idiot caught out in the rain, but he did notice that whoever was hurrying towards him was lucky enough to at least have an umbrella. He glanced back at his feet, not appreciating the cold raindrops hitting him in the face and hunched his shoulders to protect himself from them, as best he could. He ought to start carrying an umbrella around with him everywhere, considering he never listened to the weather forecast.
A sharp elbow caught him in the side as the other rain-walker passed and Havoc lost his balance. He groaned softly in pain as he hit the ground, suddenly looking up at the sky that had previously been blowing rain on his face, whatever parts of him that hadn’t been thoroughly wet, soaked through as the puddles from the sidewalk leeched into his clothing.
“Oh no!” a soft voice exclaimed, presumably the owner of the elbow that had brought him down.
And then Havoc was no longer being pelted in the face by cold, wet droplets, rather he was staring up at one Kain Fuery and his umbrella.
“L-Lieutenant Havoc?” the younger man squeaked, horror crossing his normally shyly smiling face. “I’m so sorry…”
Jean waved the apology off. “It’s fine,” he said, not bothering to pick himself up off the sidewalk. “Just do me a favor and kill me.” After the day he’d had, he was only half joking.
Unfortunately his words only seemed to make Fuery even more distressed and he found himself being pulled to his feet by the brunet, and pushed down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of where he’d been headed. It was odd, Havoc thought as Fuery stretched to hold the umbrella over both their heads, that the brunet somehow smelled of Lady Ophelia cigarettes.
“My apartment is just a few seconds away, we’ll get you dried off and warm, sir.”
Havoc only protested a bit, tugging on his arm in an effort to free himself from the other man’s grip.
“I’m not sure this is a good idea,” he said, glancing in the direction his apartment was. “It’s a short walk and, really, the storm probably won’t let up… It’d be stupid for me to get dry only to walk home again in the rain…”
Fuery shook his head, dragging the blonde into a cheery looking building and upstairs. “I have an extra umbrella you can use, and if it’s still this bad out once your clothes are dry, you can just stay the night,” he said as they moved to a stop in front of a door that Havoc assumed was the smaller man’s.
“Here,” Kain said, shoving a large bag of groceries that Havoc hadn’t seen previously at his chest to hold. The brunet’s umbrella was still in his free hand and Jean took a moment to wonder how exactly Fuery had maneuvered them all into the building with such ease as the other man dug in his pocket for keys.
It was probably one of those great mysteries of the world, Havoc decided as the apartment door swung open. Women could fit a household into their handbags, Roy Mustang had women flock to him like flies to honey for no real apparent reason, and Kain Fuery could do things that left Jean Havoc’s head spinning in bewilderment.
Fuery took the bag from him and ushered him through the door before hurrying past him into what Havoc assumed was the kitchen.
“Stay there,” the younger man called over his shoulder. “Take off what’s wet and I’ll bring you a towel.”
Jean sighed, peeling off his clothes down to his boxer shorts; though they were soaked too, they kept him at least a bit modest. He rocked on his heels nervously as he waited for the other man to re-enter the room, not sure of what he should do or how he should act. Fuery was cute, but he was hardly some girl. And Havoc doubted that Fuery had invited him in for what he was generally invited into a house for.
The brunet reappeared with a towel and offered it to him with a faint blush and Havoc grinned, suddenly more at ease as he realized that Fuery wasn’t as comfortable with inviting him in as he’d seemed.
“Underwear too,” Kain ordered as the blond took the towel, and the grin faded into a blush of his own.
He stripped down completely as Fuery conveniently looked away to straighten a few things across the room and wrapped the large fluffy towel around his waist.
“So…,” he said softly, unsure of what he should do now.
Fuery glanced over at him and hurried over, gathering his clothes off of the floor. “I’ll hang these in front of the radiator,” he said softly. “They should be dry within a couple of hours or so. Sit down and I’ll make some tea to warm you up,” he offered, heading out of the room.
Havoc opened his mouth to tell the smaller man that he’d rather have coffee, but then closed it. He’d really made too much trouble for the other soldier already and he doubted a protest would do any good anyway, seeing as they hadn’t yet. He sat on the couch, plucking at the edges of his towel anxiously. It was rather nerve wracking to be practically nude on someone else’s couch; man, woman, or otherwise.
Briefly, he wondered again about his cigarettes. Who had left them on his desk and whether or not Fuery would allow him to smoke in his house. He really needed a smoke right now. Between the hour long tongue lashing Hawkeye had given him before she’d left and having to finish his work afterwards…then the brief walk towards home without any nicotine, not to mention this business of sitting on his co-worker’s couch naked, well. He could really do with a cigarette.
The blonde stamped on the urge however, as Fuery came out of the kitchen with a tray holding two steaming cups of tea and headed towards him. Havoc gave the other man a sheepish grin, a little ashamed he’d put the man out, but grateful for the attention all the same. Flushing, Fuery looked away, not quite paying enough attention to where he was stepping as he moved forward with the tea.
He figured he should have expected having hot tea dumped all over him, the scenario smacked of his brand of luck. Still, it was rather unexpected and he hissed in pain as the blistering liquid splashed onto his chest.
Kain yelped loudly, reacting automatically to the other man’s hiss of discomfort by dragging the tea towel he’d brought into the room out of his pocket and sopping up the liquid burning the blond’s skin from the best position he could-- Havoc’s lap.
While Fuery might not have realized just where he was sitting as he frantically tried to help out the other man, Jean noticed. He noticed intently. As the brunet had climbed into his lap, the sting of the hot tea had disappeared, his senses filled with the scent of the other man. Tobacco and orange; Lady Ophelia.
He bit his lip, thinking it was probably just the smell of the tea and a product of his over active imagination. If the tea was Earl Grey that would explain one half of the scent invading his mind, and he had really been craving that cigarette before Kain had come into the room.
But as Fuery moved in closer to the blond, inspecting the slightly reddened skin of his chest, brushing the rough terry cloth over his nipple to pull away a stray droplet of tea, Havoc couldn’t help moving closer to the smaller man to make certain that it wasn’t just his imagination.
As the blond leaned into him, Kain realized just where he was sitting; he flushed and glanced up at the other man opening his mouth to apologize, just when Jean moved forward to capture his lips. Being a man to not waste any opportunity, Havoc plunged his tongue past sweet and faintly sticky lips into the brunet’s mouth.
A faint voice in the back of his mind wondered if he knew what the hell he was doing, but he ignored it as he moved his tongue against Fuery’s, reveling in the fact that the smaller man tasted of Lady Ophelia and peppermints. He moaned softly when the younger soldier began responding to the kiss, pressing their mouths closer together and tangling their tongues as Havoc’s hand crept up to cup his cheek.
They were panting when they broke apart, Fuery’s eyes staring wide and unfocused into Havoc’s. The blond swallowed thickly, fascinated by the blush staining Kain’s cheeks.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I don’t know what came over me…”
Kain’s eyes blinked owlishly at him from behind his glasses, taking a few seconds to focus on the blond. He nibbled on his bottom lip, which made Havoc want to kiss him all over again, but he held off, unsure of how the brunet would respond to the whole situation. Fuery blushed deeply, but leaned up against the taller man.
“Don’t be,” he murmured, pressing their lips together again.
Havoc groaned into the other man’s mouth, arms going around Kain’s waist as they explored each other’s mouths again, taking their time with this kiss, tongues sliding together like caresses. When they pulled apart this time, the brunet’s hands were wandering across Jean’s chest and Havoc’s own hands were sliding beneath the smaller man’s shirt.
“Bedroom?” Havoc whispered questioningly, as he tugged the shirt over Fuery’s head, the other man lifting his arms willingly.
“Too far,” Kain mumbled back, connecting their lips again as he pushed the taller man down on the couch, hands wandering paths over his skin, even as Havoc’s own hands made their way to the fastening of Fuery’s pants.
The brunet kicked his pants off his legs and gasped softly as one warm hand dove past the waistband of his underwear and wrapped itself around his burgeoning erection with a warm stroke. Havoc stroked Fuery’s cock a bit hesitantly, not exactly familiar with the mechanics of this, but wanting it enough to try to make it as good as possible for the other man.
How long had it been since he’d even had sex, he wondered as Kain bucked into his hand with a soft moan. It had been a while, he knew but the train of thought fizzled off as a wet, warm tongue moved over his nipple.
He tightened his grip on the smaller man’s cock and stroked a bit more quickly, thought processes thoroughly derailed by the talented mouth that had enclosed one nipple, teasing it every few moments or so with a nibble. Kain’s hips moved into Havoc’s grip frantically and the brunet slid a hand down to rub the taller man’s cock through the rough terrycloth.
Jean groaned, and rocked into the friction against his erection, his free hand trailing down Fuery’s side and over the smooth globes of his ass to press teasingly against his entrance as his thumb rubbed over the head of Kain’s member.
The brunet stiffened above him with a gasp and Havoc found his fingers covered in a warm, sticky fluid. Fuery had come, and it was because of him. The thought struck through him like lightning, sharpening his arousal that much more as Kain’s palm still rubbed him through the towel. He arched into the other man with a whimper, the touch driving him to distraction, but not really enough to bring him off.
Fuery moved away from him and Jean thought he was somehow being punished until he felt the other man’s hand wrap around his wrist and a tongue lick roughly up his palm and over his fingers. Kain sucked each of the blond’s fingers into his mouth, one by one, cleaning the remains of his orgasm off the other man’s hand.
Havoc wondered if he was in nirvana, but then Fuery was moving again, attention turned away from his fingers. A soft brush of lips found his chin and then his mouth, and they were kissing again, the smaller man tasting of something new something uniquely his own, hands that weren’t his own tugging at the towel around his waist.
“Lift your hips,” Kain murmured against his lips, pulling the offending cloth away as soon as Jean had followed his directive.
As soon as the towel was gone, Jean’s lips were abandoned and Fuery began moving down his body with nibbles and nips, soft kisses and brief sucking sensations until a firm stroke made its way up his cock. Oh god, Havoc thought, hands grasping the couch cushions beneath him tightly; I’ve died and gone to heaven. He had to have, he was positive, because in all his years of life nothing this spectacular had ever happened to him.
Kain was as talented with his tongue as he was with mechanics, teasing Havoc’s cock until the blond thought he would explode with the pleasure of it all. He ran his taste buds roughly over the sensitive crown of Jean’s erection, pressing the tip of his tongue into the slit that was leaking pre-cum into his mouth. His hands were busy also, one stroking the inside of the larger man’s thighs lightly, while the other caressed his balls. He took in as much of the member into his mouth as he could, humming softly around it, savoring the taste.
Havoc tensed, toes curling as Kain hummed around him. His eyes clenched shut, teeth sinking into his lip. He was going to…going to… He gave a ragged sob as cool air suddenly engulfed his cock, eyes wrenching themselves open in surprise.
“Kain…?” he asked softly as the other man moved off of him.
Fuery smiled and grabbed Havoc’s wrist, pulling the blond off the couch. “Bedroom,” he said comfortingly, leading the taller man down the hall with a brief pause to kick of the boxers that were still hanging low on his hips.
Havoc followed the brunet with weak knees, cursing his sense of timing. He’d been so close… He allowed the other man to pull him into a room and found himself suddenly laying on a bed, Fuery’s warm body covering him once more. They kissed again and small tube was pressed into his hand. Havoc pulled away, panting, and blinked at it. Lubricant. He flushed and glanced at the brunet who was looking at him in a way he’d never seen before. It made Jean want to devour him.
He pulled Kain to him again, uncapping the lube with one hand and wrapping his fingers around the other man’s renewed erection with his other for a few brief strokes. Once he had the lubricant uncapped, however, he pulled his hand away, spreading the slick substance onto his fingers and moving to press one of them into the smaller man carefully.
Kain gave a soft gasp and pushed his forehead against the junction of Havoc’s neck and shoulder as the digit slowly invaded him. Havoc gave the brunet a few moments to adjust to the intrusion, wiggling the finger inside of him and pulling it out of him slightly to press it back in before he added a second finger, scissoring them slightly as he moved them in and out of the other man.
Fuery, for his part, pressed back onto the digits, crying out loudly as Havoc brushed his prostate. “Now,” he said with a growl, thrusting back against Jean’s hand, more than prepared for what was to come.
The blond swallowed thickly and nodded, pulling his hand away and grabbing the lube once more, to smear it onto his cock as Fuery moved to his hands and knees in front of him. It took all of his will power not to come at just the sight of the other man, warm and willing in front of him.
He took a deep breath, then pressed into Kain, amazed as he slowly sank into the heat at how tight Fuery was surrounding him. He panted softly into the smaller soldier’s ear, wrapping his hand around the other’s erection as he began to thrust. He started slowly at first, but began to move more quickly as his lust overtook him, his hand moving in time with his hips.
Their torsos slid slickly against one another and Havoc found himself fast losing control, panting as he moved in and out of the other man. It was Kain, however, who again fell over the edge first, not being able to take the double stimulation of Havoc’s cock brushing his prostate and the fist around his own erection, he cried out as he came, tensing and tightening around Jean. Havoc was pulled into orgasm as Fuery tightened around him, his vision blurring and limbs stiffening as he was dragged into oblivion.
Havoc panted as he struggled to keep from collapsing on the man beneath him, pulling himself out of the brunet and falling to the side, with a soft gasp. Kain sighed and moved against the blond briefly, nuzzling directly beneath his collar bone. Jean gave a soft sound and allowed his eyes to slide shut, prepared to drift off, until he felt the warmth move away from his side and drag open a drawer on the bedside table.
The blond didn’t bother opening his eyes, whatever Fuery wanted to do now was his priority, Havoc was more than happy to bask in the afterglow. That was, until he heard the familiar rasp of a lighter. One blue eye pried itself open and focused on the man beside him, who was currently lighting one very fine, tobacco and orange Lady Ophelia blend cigarette.
Fuery glanced over at him, pulling an eyebrow up in question. “Want a smoke?” he offered blithely, with a half grin.
Havoc choked on his laughter, pushing himself up on his elbow to snatch the cigarette from between Fuery’s lips. He grinned at the smaller man, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Lady Ophelia and peppermint and sex. Not a bad combination.
Smirking, he tucked the filter between his lips and took a deep drag.
“Don’t mind if I do,” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows.
Some days, Havoc thought as he took another long drag and pulled Fuery to his side, really weren’t worth getting up for. But then again, some days were.