Fanfiction for 7stages [Havoc/Mustang, NC-17]
Title: Their Shades Of Pale
Author: galuxkitty
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Jean Havoc/Roy Mustang
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5811
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is the rightful property of Hiromu Arakawa. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine.
For the theme ‘five shades of white’ from 7stages. Many thanks to raja815 for her help all throughout the writing of this fic; it is dedicated to her.
I. Snow
Havoc felt pleasantly warm despite the freezing night air that gushed through the bar door as soon as he opened it and stepped aside to let Colonel Mustang pass him. The Colonel had had more to drink than he had, but he still managed to keep a strong pace and an almost unnaturally steady posture despite all of the liquor bottles he’d left empty on the counter of the bar.
Havoc only moved when Mustang looked back over his shoulder and asked him what was taking so long. He grinned sheepishly and, after stumbling over the small stone step that led up to the door of the bar like he did every night, followed Mustang down into the street.
The pavement was slippery from the snowstorms that had been happening over the past few days in Central, and the clouds above were thick and heavy with threat of another such storm. Havoc clumsily reached into his pocket for the car keys, only to have them snatched away from him by the Colonel.
“You’re too drunk to drive, Lieutenant.”
“You had more than me, Sir,” Havoc replied, grinning despite himself.
“That doesn’t mean I’m more intoxicated than you are, you know.” The corners of the Colonel’s lips twitched into a smirk briefly, but whatever was on his mind would apparently stay hidden until he saw fit, for at that very moment he turned away to unlock the passenger’s side door for his Lieutenant.
As soon as Mustang had taken his seat behind the wheel and jiggled the key into the ignition, the first snowflake fell onto the windscreen of the car. Swearing softly, he pulled away from the bar and clicked the headlights on. It made little difference; soon the snow was coming down hard, making the engine stall from the cold and reducing visibility to almost nil. The Second Lieutenant dozed lightly in the passenger’s seat while his superior drove slowly through the snow, partly to stop the car from skidding and partly to prevent any serious accidents should anything have strayed into their path. The route Havoc took to take Mustang home and then back to his own apartment was tried and true and almost all straight road, and Mustang knew it off-by-heart after having the younger man double as his driver for so many years, but the road was getting more and more dangerous with every passing minute, and the snow was showing no sign of stopping or even slowing. To add to his troubles, the alcohol was also beginning to catch up to him. Squinting through the snow, the Colonel began to watch out for any building that could accommodate them for the night.
After another ten minutes of driving dangerously blind, Mustang caught the blinking and bright colours of a motel sign out of the corner of his eye; judging by the fact that he’d taken no routes out of the ordinary, he’d probably seen it many times before as Havoc was driving him home on clearer nights, but his mind couldn’t register a name for the place.
After driving gracefully over the gutter and what sounded like a garden outside of the motel, Mustang stopped the car and leaned over to his Lieutenant.
“Havoc...”
The Lieutenant grunted and shifted in his seat.
“Havoc!”
“Uh... what’s...” Havoc mumbled softly before waking up a little more and doing a double take at the Colonel’s face being so close, “We’re not there yet, are we?”
“No, but it’s too dangerous to continue on from here,” the Colonel replied, jerking his head back towards the windscreen of the car.
“Where are we then, Sir?” Havoc slurred, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.
“A motel. We’ll stay here for the night. Grab your coat, it’s cold.”
“I figured, Sir,” Havoc replied sarcastically. Mustang ignored him.
Once they were both rugged up in their coats, Mustang pocketed the car keys and the pair headed out into the snow for the short walk to the motel’s front door. Havoc pulled his collar up over his face in a futile attempt to protect his face from the stinging snow, and Mustang had to lunge to grasp the back of his Lieutenant’s coat to stop him from stumbling drunkenly face-first into the glass front door of the building.
“We’ll stay here, then,” Mustang said, pausing at the doorstep to shake the snow off his greatcoat.
“Great idea, Mustang. I really don’t wanna go back out there again,” Havoc said, trying to ruffle the snow out of his hair but instead falling dizzily to the side.
Sighing, the Colonel slung his Lieutenant’s arms around his shoulders and dragged him into the motel.
II. Moonlight
“Hello, and welcome to Moonlight,” the receptionist at the desk greeted them. She apparently saw no need to make a comment on the fact that a Colonel of the National Army was carrying his blind-drunk subordinate into a motel in the middle of a snowy night.
“We need a room for the night,” Mustang said shortly. Havoc nodded sleepily against his shoulder.
“We only have one single room spare, but we can bring a cot up for one of you to sleep on.”
“We’d appreciate it.”
“Here’s your key, then,” the woman smiled, putting a key with a plain white tag marked with the number 2441, “Your room is on level two, on the first landing. I’ll send someone up with the cot and your billing information as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Mustang replied. He didn’t know why, but the plain, unreadable face of the woman irked him, so he quickly headed towards the stairs and nudged Havoc in the ribs.
“Can you walk up the stairs?”
“Got as far as here, didn’t I?”
“With my help. I’ll walk behind you in case you fall.”
The motel seemed like your standard one-night accommodation; the sort of place a businessman might stay overnight if he was travelling to Central for a deal, or a place where any regular travellers who accidentally stayed on the road too long could sleep it off, no matter what the time. The halls seemed quite scant and void of any decoration, painted with cheap whitewash paint that was chipping a little at the corners. The carpet was a cream colour; the only thing that wasn’t pale in colour that he’d seen so far was the check in desk, which had been mahogany and was obviously very new.
Roy looked up just in time to push Havoc back into balance, and continued to follow him up the stairs. Once they got to the next landing, Havoc questioned what their room number was. Jean nodded and turned right.
“If the numbers are in order it’ll be this way...” he murmured huskily over his shoulder.
It seemed Havoc’s ability to comprehend even the simplest of logic decreased even further when he was intoxicated. Roy smirked at his Lieutenant’s back and said nothing.
After about five minutes of wandering around the corridors, they found themselves back at the staircase; they had taken a right turn last time, and Roy soon discovered that their room was the first on the left.
“Must’ve mislabelled them or something...” Havoc muttered.
Roy took the key from his pocket, stepped around Havoc and unlocked the door, managing to keep a straight face the entire time; he thought that was rather admirable on its own.
The room wasn’t as bad as he’d assumed it would be; it was still so white as to remind him of a hospital rather than a motel, but so long as he didn’t get blinded by all of the pale colours he assumed the night would go quickly, and they could both call into work late the next morning citing something superfluous such as traffic conditions; the conditions weren’t shaping up to be all that stellar in the first place, so it wouldn’t be as if he was downright lying.
He half-led, half-dragged Havoc over to the bed and pushed him down onto it. Havoc groaned and grabbed Mustang’s wrist as his head spun from the alcohol, and the Colonel’s hand briefly grasped his before Havoc found himself lying safely back against the pillow.
“I’ll get you a cup of water,” Roy said, and Havoc nodded gratefully in reply.
Everything here seemed as plain and ambiguous in the room as it had in the lobby and in the hallways. Roy’s father had once told him that every snowflake was unique in size and pattern, but he had been too wrapped up in his juvenile delight to really care. The entire Moonlight Motel seemed almost like the snow outside; the overwhelming white could have been beautiful and unique by itself, but when grouped together, not one thing stood out from the next.
Rinsing out one of the mugs he found in the cupboard before starting to fill it with water from the kitchen tap, Roy idly thumbed at a small chip in the porcelain while the cup filled and watched his subordinate, who was writhing on the bed in the corner of the single room and attempting to shield his eyes from the lamp on the bedside table. Grinning briefly, Roy walked back to the side of the bed, grasped Havoc’s wrist just as tightly as Havoc had held his just minutes beforehand and pressed the mug against his palm.
Havoc grunted at the sudden cold against his skin, but soon gave Roy a lopsided, thankful grin and took the mug.
“Thanks, Boss.”
Roy nodded in acknowledgement, and then sat himself on the end of the bed, away from Havoc’s feet to await the arrival of his cot.
III. Sheets
By the time Roy’s cot had been brought up to the room and set up by the courteous-looking maid, Havoc’s had sobered a little and was no longer squinting and groaning every time the light flickered on and off due to the snowstorm. Roy smoothed the sheets on the cot meticulously; the cloth was bizarrely clean for motel linen; probably either very well cared for or very new.
Havoc grunted from under his blankets, and Roy turned to face him.
“When did it get so cold?”
Mustang smirked.
“Since you started sobering up, Second Lieutenant.”
“Kind of wish I was drunk again,” Havoc rubbed his eyes irritably, “I don’t think they’re going to be rolling in an endless supply of blankets tonight, Boss.”
“Just got to be as warm as possible, then,” Roy said, making a point of reaching down to take off his soaking wet boots and socks.
“They’ll be warm once they’re dry, you know,” Havoc said feebly.
“But until then they’re going to be uncomfortable and cold,” Mustang countered.
“It’s going to be cold anyway,” Havoc said, looking at the small window on the other side of the room; it was totally covered with snow.
“I don’t see why you have such a grudge against taking off your boots, Lieutenant; I would daresay most soldiers can’t wait for the end of the day so they can step out of them.”
“It’s just that I’m not all that coordinated when I’m drunk, Sir.”
The Colonel almost laughed.
“And what would that have to do with anything.”
“I’m going to look like an ass trying to touch my own feet.”
“You’ll be needing help, then?”
“I don’t want to trouble you, Chief.”
“I can assure you that you’ve caused me enough trouble tonight for this one small favour to be negligible.”
“Thanks, Sir. That really makes me feel better, you know?”
“That was sarcasm, Lieutenant.”
“My Ma always told me it was the lowest form of wit, Sir.”
“Perhaps you should have listened more closely to the tone of voice in which she said it, Havoc.”
While the Second Lieutenant tried his best to wrap his alcohol-addled brain around what the Colonel said, said Colonel stood up and pulled back the sheets covering Havoc and slipped a supporting hand behind his back.
“Would you like to try by yourself first?”
“With all due respect Colonel, you are a bastard.”
“Duly noted, Lieutenant, but at the moment I’m more concerned with keeping the both of us as warm and comfortable as possible.”
Havoc grunted bitterly and pushed himself up onto his elbows. After his head stopped swimming, he leaned forward and tried to grab the lace on his right boot. He missed the lace spectacularly and almost fell over on top of himself as his head once again swam and his vision blurred.
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Didn’t ask for it, Sir.”
“I’m quite sure you don’t want to be up all night trying to undo your shoelaces either, Havoc.”
Mustang leaned down and tugged at Havoc’s shoelaces; they loosened and Havoc immediately began to look sulky. The Colonel tugged Havoc’s right boot off with both hands, and his knuckles gently brushed against the arc of his subordinate’s foot as he moved away. Jean shuddered despite his numbed reactions.
“Jeez, can you watch where you’re putting your fingers, Boss?”
“Ticklish, Havoc?”
“Of course not,” Havoc snorted; Roy reached down and yanked off his other boot and he almost jumped.
“Of course not,” Roy repeated, smirking. He tugged off Havoc’s damp socks and stuffed them into his boots before discarding them to the floor.
“It’s freezing,” Havoc grunted, wrinkling his nose.
“It often is when it snows,” Roy pointed out, before thumbing along his Second Lieutenant’s waistline and unsnapping the clips that held his coattails on his uniform.
“I didn’t say I needed help with those,” Havoc muttered as Mustang pulled them out from under him.
“Hmm, our greatcoats are probably almost dry by now...”
“Good, because we’re not going to have much else to keep us warm, Boss.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Mustang replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over Havoc in order to take off his sodden uniform jacket, “How in the world did you manage to get this wet?”
“I can’t remember back that far, to be honest.”
“You’re cold as ice, you know,” Mustang observed, pressing his palm to Havoc’s upper arm. He nonchalantly tossed Havoc’s jacket into the pile of clothes and then started on his own jacket and coattails.
“I’m still cold, Sir.”
“I highly doubt you want to get any more naked than that.”
“Sometimes they nights are awful cold and lonely...”
“Too much information, Havoc. And I can assure you that while the night may be cold, it is anything but lonely.”
Havoc was silent for a while after that, and Roy couldn’t tell if he’d said something that had upset him or if he’d just been confused in his drunken stupor. He was just about to finish undressing and slide into the cot when he felt Havoc’s hand on his arm.
“Just wait, Sir.”
Mustang turned around and smirked. Jean’s muscles were visibly steeled against the cold; his eyes were tired but surprisingly focused.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
The press of Havoc’s lips against his own was surprising, Roy thought, but not entirely unexpected. Roy could feel the sting of cheap liquor that burned the tongue and the numbing, rough taste of tobacco as Havoc’s lips worked roughly but slowly against his. The blond man pulled him down and slipped a single chilled hand just underneath his dress shirt, making him shiver as tiny cold points flashed across his skin with the movement of Havoc’s fingers.
They eventually parted, dark eyes meeting blue from way too close. Havoc’s lips were swollen and moist and his eyes were soft.
“I’m still cold, Sir.”
“There’s no need to be cold alone, Lieutenant.”
IV. Skin
It was still cold outside, Mustang noted somewhere in the back of his mind. It was still snowing, it was still clouded and they were still trapped with one another for as long as it took for the storm to cease, or as long as it took to find the motel under the piles of snow.
It was still cold outside, but they both felt warm.
Havoc’s tongue pressed against his fingertips, and Mustang smiled, tracing his thumb along the gentle curve at the corner of his subordinate’s mouth as he rolled his lips across sensitive skin. He was unrefined, Mustang thought as he felt Havoc’s tongue dip between his index and middle fingers with little grace, but he certainly wasn’t without skill. Roy shivered a little as Havoc pulled away slowly, running his tongue along the length of his fingers before biting gently down on the tips. Feeling Mustang shudder in his lap, Havoc grinned and gently brushed his tongue across rough fingertips, and he was rather proud to hear a soft, breathy moan come from Mustang’s lips. What had been thinking about Havoc being unrefined, Mustang wondered. He couldn’t quite remember.
“Havoc,” Mustang breathed, watching a thin line of saliva connect his fingers and his subordinate’s tongue for a brief moment, before it broke as they parted.
“Yes, Sir?” Havoc smiled, eyes still clouded from the alcohol but also surprisingly clear as he seized his Colonel’s wrist and proceeded to draw a long, wet line across his palm with his tongue.
“Nothing,” Mustang managed to say, fingertips brushing along Havoc’s cheek rigidly as the younger man continued to tease him with perfectly timed swipes of his tongue, nibbles of his teeth and brushes of his lips. Havoc grinned again and slid his hand behind Mustang’s neck, sharply tugging him down but refusing to kiss him when their faces were barely an inch apart.
“Bastard,” Mustang said huskily, flicking out his tongue and managing to brush the tip of Havoc’s nose. Havoc didn’t respond through words, but his actions spoke so loud it almost deafened Roy as he watched his lover lean forward, eyes open from far too close. He felt the pressure of Havoc’s lips before he felt the hand slide away from his neck and down his back to where his uniform pants were hanging low on his hips. The Colonel broke away sharply at the feeling of smooth fingers dip below the waistline of his pants. Havoc stared, unsure of why Roy reacted so sharply; he avoided his face, feeling almost as shy as he felt when he wasn’t sobering up. The Colonel’s skin was pale and looked ghostly in the half-light provided by the fluorescent lamp.
“Too fast,” Mustang murmured, “You need to slow down.”
“Aah, with all due respect Sir, you don’t seem the type to say something like that.”
“You misunderstand me, Havoc,” Roy smirked, pressing down against him and brushing across his nipple with a rough swipe of the tongue, “It would be impolite to skip my solo before the final act, would it not?”
“I can’t say it wouldn’t help to take you down a few notches you really do need to fall, Sir.”
“Still, can’t let you have all the fun,” Mustang purred, before once again poking his tongue over his lips and pressing it against Havoc’s bare chest. Havoc felt the heat of the Colonel’s mouth, the warmth of his body, the insistence in his movements and the short, deliberate intakes of breath on his skin, and he gasped and arched up into the touch. Mustang halted.
“I was going to tease you, but it feels like you don’t really need it,” he said, squirming against Havoc’s lap.
“Sir,” Havoc started, before feeling suddenly out of breath as Mustang’s mouth closed over his nipple and sucked lightly, teeth closing over the sensitive skin softly and tongue darting out in soft touches that made him shiver.
“Mmm, yes?” Mustang questioned, but his mind went pleasantly blank as Havoc’s large hands slid over his ass through the material of his pants.
“Sir, I want...” Havoc’s mouth snapped shut like a trap before he could finish and he looked away, avoiding Mustang’s eyes.
“Want what?” Mustang asked.
“I want... I want to... you to...” Havoc continued, hands working across Roy’s ass and lower back, as if the motion almost soothed him.
“You want to fuck me?” Mustang questioned, sounding casual as you could please.
“You don’t have to put it like that, Sir!” Havoc exclaimed, and Mustang felt the heat in his face and neck as he moved to kiss him.
“Why not?”
“That makes it sound like there’s nothing between us.”
Mustang paused for a moment, both terrified and ecstatic that Jean considered that there was something between them.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Aah, I’ve never...”
“What, Lieutenant?” Mustang asked, starting to feel slightly frustrated as his cock ached between his legs.
“I’ve only been with women before.”
“I see,” Mustang said, “Well, are you sure that this is what you want?”
Havoc nodded until his head spun. He groaned and fell back onto the pillow, and Mustang smirked and delicately brushed his fingers over Jean’s forehead.
“Alright, I’ll...”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Sir,” Havoc interrupted, “What about you?”
“I know enough to make it enjoyable for us both,” Mustang stated, and Havoc didn’t ask any further questions.
It had been a long time since he’d had to transmute anything but fire. Both fire and water held some common elements, but they arrays using for transmuting the two were slightly different. Looking at the white mug Jean had been drinking out of only hours before, and the slight traces of dust left on the bedside table due to the misuse of the room. Roy highly doubted that the place was even half as busy on regular nights.
Unwillingly sliding off Havoc’s stomach for a few brief moments, Roy reached over and placed one finger down in the dust, desperately trying to remember the array. He traced in the dust for a while until he began to remember, and Jean watched, obviously confused by what he was doing. After about five minutes, Roy seemed satisfied with his work and pressed his palm down onto the dresser. Light flared up for a brief moment, and after that the cup still stood in the same place, looking totally unchanged.
“Should be fine now,” Mustang muttered, sliding his fingers into the cup. The water that had been inside was now a lot thicker in substance, but also posed less friction. It was warm from the energy of the transmutation. Perfect.
“Sir, do you need me to...” Havoc started, but Mustang pressed a hand against his mouth to silence him.
“Do you know how?”
“Not at all, Boss. I didn’t think there was a refined technique to it.”
“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, Lieutenant, but I’m not sure I trust you with something that delicate while you’re drunk and uncoordinated.”
“Sorry about that, Mustang,” Havoc said, looking sheepish.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Roy responded, putting the mug down again and taking off his uniform pants.
“I could probably be doing that,” Jean said, eyes fixed on the tent in Roy’s boxers and cheeks tinted slightly pink. The Colonel smirked over his shoulder and, leaving his underwear on, crawled into Havoc’s lap.
“Go ahead, then.”
Havoc looked like he was trying to decide whether to die of fright or burst with the overwhelming anticipation of the situation. Mustang leaned down and kissed his neck softly, flicking his earlobe with his tongue before drawing back and getting up onto his knees.
Havoc took that as his cue and he reached forward, hooked his fingers in the waistband of his superior’s underwear and, after one last deep breath, tugged them down.
Mustang chuckled, sliding away to take the garment off completely before sitting back in Havoc’s lap, rocking his hips roughly against the blond man’s crotch and breathing in slow, strained moans as he felt Havoc react to the friction.
“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” Mustang breathed, rocking his hips particularly hard and purring when he felt Havoc arch up.
“Sir,” Havoc started, watching wide eyed as Mustang arched and writhed in his lap, “Can we please... ah... get on with it?”
The smirk that was on Mustang’s face just a few moments before returned with vengeance, and the Colonel nodded and slowly slipped his fingers under the top of his subordinate’s uniform pants.
“Commando, Lieutenant? I wouldn’t have expected it from you.”
Havoc avoided his eyes again, and Mustang chuckled and kissed him again.
“I’m only teasing.”
“In more ways than one, Sir.”
“Speaking of which... please pass me that mug, Havoc.”
The Second Lieutenant complied, shivering a little as Mustang slid his fingers out of his pants to hold the mug.
“Boss? I think you forgot something.”
“What did I forget, Lieutenant?”
“I’m still not naked, Sir.”
“I’m more than capable of finishing the job once I’m fully prepared.”
“Err, won’t the stuff in my mug stain my pants, Sir? This is the only good pair I have.”
“Since when have you been concerned about things like that?”
“Since you decided we needed to look more presentable, Sir.”
Roy grunted, obviously annoyed. He unzipped his Lieutenant’s pants and started tugging them down.
“It’s probably going to stain anyway, looking at you... really not putting me in the mood...”
“I didn’t assume that this was going to happen, Sir,” Havoc said, looking almost distraught. Roy paused after that, feeling the slightest ache of guilt in the pit of his stomach. As he was tugging the material away from Havoc’s body, he leaned down and pressed soft kisses to his skin as it was exposed. Pressing his lips against the inside of his thigh and smiling deviously, Roy swiped his tongue roughly along Havoc’s balls once and then pulled away, feeling that the time for teasing was quickly drawing to a close.
Drawing himself up onto his knees, he reached over and grabbed the mug from the bedside table. Dipping his fingers into it and carefully slicking them, he reached around and took a few deep, relaxing breaths before slowly pressing them inside. He almost moaned from his own touch as he moved his fingers, feeling his cock twitch as he started a slow rhythm, resisting the urge to jerk off as the same time.
Havoc watched his superior officer with wide eyes, feeling that the moment was almost surreal. Mustang was arched in the pale light, skin slick with sweat and head thrown back as he pleasured himself. His thighs were quivering just enough to be noticeable against the sides of Havoc’s legs, and his cock twitched every so often as his fingers moved. Havoc felt he should be doing more, and reached out to curl his hand around his superior’s cock. The older man moaned and jerked forward with his hips, looking at Havoc through suddenly soft eyes. He brushed his thumb over the head and slid his hand over the entire length of Mustang’s cock three times before moving down to gently toy with his balls.
“Stop,” Mustang moaned, pulling his fingers free and moving away from Havoc, “Stop or I’ll...”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“No need to be,” Mustang purred, reaching over to pour some of the slick substance he’d transmuted in the cup into the palm of his hand, “Lay back and I’ll prep you.”
Havoc fell back onto the pillow, feeling stiff as a board in more than one sense of the phrase. Mustang curled his slicked fingers around the head of Jean’s cock and stroked him up and down twice, making sure the lube was evenly distributed. Havoc moaned and arched up at the touch, and precum glistened at the head of his cock as he pressed up into Roy’s touch. Mustang purred and stilled his hand at the base, licking the tip of Havoc’s cock clean before once again getting to his knees and kneeling over his subordinate. Holding Havoc’s cock steady beneath him with one shaking hand, Mustang carefully brushed the head against his entrance, feeling his cock twitched when he heard Havoc moan in time with him. He positioned himself; preparing to take Havoc when he felt a hand grab the one he had holding Havoc’s cock.
“Chief,” Havoc murmured, eyes as clear as Mustang had seen them all night, “Are you sure you want this?”
Roy stared at his subordinate for a moment, and almost laughed at the serious look on his face. Leaning down as far as he could, he poked his tongue over his lips and flicked it towards his lover. Jean got the hint and leaned up, and they brushed their tongues together for a moment before moving in for a proper kiss. Roy’s finger traced soft, tickling patterns up the length of Havoc’s cock, and the older man moaned.
“I’m perfectly sure,” Mustang purred, before leaning back against and holding Havoc’s dick steady as he slowly took him inside.
It had been years since he’d felt the awkward burn, the steady pressure. He’d mostly slept with women all his life, and he’d forsaken men for so long now that it felt painful, even when compared to the old days when he’d been younger, inexperienced, and stupid. Havoc’s hands were a warm presence on his thighs, supporting him as he moved down inch by slow inch. As he felt the head of Havoc’s cock barely place pressure on that spot, he cried out and arched his back, thinking that he could see himself getting much more accustomed to this in the future. And Havoc - innocent, chain-smoking, nonchalant Havoc - was watching him so attentively and holding him so carefully that it only reaffirmed the stupid idea of commitment in Roy’s mind.
Finally feeling his thighs touch Havoc’s, Mustang stilled and waited until he felt a little more comfortable.
“Boss? Err, can I call you Roy, Sir?” Havoc asked dumbly, feeling like he should be doing more, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Roy breathed, not sure which question he was answering.
“Are you sure?”
Despite himself, Roy laughed, “I’m not a teenage girl, you know.”
“I know, Sir.”
“Roy,” he corrected, and then wondered why he did.
“Roy,” Havoc repeated, smiling uncertainly.
Roy nodded and then moved up slowly, pressing down again shortly after and making Havoc moan. His pace gradually quickened as he heard Havoc’s soft, breathy encouragements; eventually setting on a sharp, rough pace on his own, ignoring the force of Havoc’s hips rocking up to meet him, Roy began riding Jean’s cock hard, bouncing up and down on his knees and gripping Havoc’s thighs with his hands so hard he was sure it would leave a mark.
He wasn’t sure why he reacted so strongly when he felt Havoc’s hand on his stomach, but as it started to slowly snake its way down and to his cock Mustang moaned and threw his head back, shivering when he felt the other hand roughly brushing against his right nipple. Havoc was a fast learner apparently, as he quickly began stroking Roy’s cock with one hand and teasing the rest of his exposed skin with the other.
Roy knew it wouldn’t last nearly as long as he wanted it to, but it was good all the same, and when he heard Havoc cry out, felt him arch up against him, and felt the rush of liquid heat through him, he felt no regrets. Wrinkling his nose as he eased off and mindful of how uncomfortable he felt at being so close and not being able to reach the top, he reached down and grabbed one of the spare sheets from his cot and wiped the semen away from his ass and thighs, relaxing and waiting until he was sure most of it had leaked out of his body before moving again.
Havoc leaned forward and hooked an arm around his stomach, dragging him closer and making him stare. The younger man looked up, blushed and apologized for his inexperience before taking the head of Mustang’s cock into his mouth, sucking and swiping his tongue with such delicate ease while his fingers toyed with his Colonel’s balls and thighs. When Mustang felt the blunt pressure of one finger pressing against his entrance, he moaned and thrust forward, his dick hitting the back of Havoc’s throat as he came, harder than he had for a good while.
Jean pulled away, snagged the spare sheet Mustang had used to clean himself up and coughed into it roughly, spitting his superior’s semen into the cloth and wiping his mouth vigorously.
“Don’t like that?” Mustang purred, and Havoc shook his head, still coughing into the material of the sheet. The Colonel chuckled and pulled Havoc up for a kiss, probing around the younger man’s mouth for his own taste with his tongue before pulling away.
It was awkward afterwards, but it could have been worse. Mustang tossed the extra sheet into the dirty linen basket in the hallway outside (modesty be damned), and then shut off the light, slid into his bunk and went to sleep. He didn’t ask to join Havoc on the bed, and Havoc didn’t ask.
They both fell asleep, despite the questions on their minds and the howling wind outside.
V. Sunlight
When Havoc awoke the next morning, Mustang was already dressed and ready to go and hand the room key in.
The same smiling clerk as the night before was manning the front desk, and Roy wondered if she’d even slept the night before.
The sunlight outside was pale, but there; it reflected off the snow and made even the usually pitch-black military car look blindingly bright. It was a relief to see things had cleared up after the storm the night before.
They headed out to the car, and Havoc said that he’d drive this time, and Mustang didn’t argue. Once they were in the car, Havoc locked the doors and started up the windscreen wipers to clear the excess snow.
“Sir, about last night...”
“What about it?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever are you sorry for?” Roy smirked.
“Nothing, I suppose,” Havoc replied sheepishly.
“It was between us. It was nothing more than a one-off thing. You don’t have to pursue it if you don’t want, don’t have to tell anyone, don’t have to speak of it again,” Mustang said, trying his best to sound like he didn’t care. It was easily one of the hardest lies he’d had to tell in recent times.
“Alright, Sir,” Havoc said, looking uncertain, “But, err, what if I do?”
“What, tell someone?”
“No, want to take it further.”
Mustang started, and then smiled.
“We’ll just have to wait and see.”
The chips of ice rushing away from the car as they drove away looked bizarrely bright in the pale white morning sunlight.
END
Comments would be greatly appreciated.
Author: galuxkitty
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Jean Havoc/Roy Mustang
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5811
Warnings: Graphic sexual situations.
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist is the rightful property of Hiromu Arakawa. This is a fanwork written purely for both your entertainment and mine.
For the theme ‘five shades of white’ from 7stages. Many thanks to raja815 for her help all throughout the writing of this fic; it is dedicated to her.
I. Snow
Havoc felt pleasantly warm despite the freezing night air that gushed through the bar door as soon as he opened it and stepped aside to let Colonel Mustang pass him. The Colonel had had more to drink than he had, but he still managed to keep a strong pace and an almost unnaturally steady posture despite all of the liquor bottles he’d left empty on the counter of the bar.
Havoc only moved when Mustang looked back over his shoulder and asked him what was taking so long. He grinned sheepishly and, after stumbling over the small stone step that led up to the door of the bar like he did every night, followed Mustang down into the street.
The pavement was slippery from the snowstorms that had been happening over the past few days in Central, and the clouds above were thick and heavy with threat of another such storm. Havoc clumsily reached into his pocket for the car keys, only to have them snatched away from him by the Colonel.
“You’re too drunk to drive, Lieutenant.”
“You had more than me, Sir,” Havoc replied, grinning despite himself.
“That doesn’t mean I’m more intoxicated than you are, you know.” The corners of the Colonel’s lips twitched into a smirk briefly, but whatever was on his mind would apparently stay hidden until he saw fit, for at that very moment he turned away to unlock the passenger’s side door for his Lieutenant.
As soon as Mustang had taken his seat behind the wheel and jiggled the key into the ignition, the first snowflake fell onto the windscreen of the car. Swearing softly, he pulled away from the bar and clicked the headlights on. It made little difference; soon the snow was coming down hard, making the engine stall from the cold and reducing visibility to almost nil. The Second Lieutenant dozed lightly in the passenger’s seat while his superior drove slowly through the snow, partly to stop the car from skidding and partly to prevent any serious accidents should anything have strayed into their path. The route Havoc took to take Mustang home and then back to his own apartment was tried and true and almost all straight road, and Mustang knew it off-by-heart after having the younger man double as his driver for so many years, but the road was getting more and more dangerous with every passing minute, and the snow was showing no sign of stopping or even slowing. To add to his troubles, the alcohol was also beginning to catch up to him. Squinting through the snow, the Colonel began to watch out for any building that could accommodate them for the night.
After another ten minutes of driving dangerously blind, Mustang caught the blinking and bright colours of a motel sign out of the corner of his eye; judging by the fact that he’d taken no routes out of the ordinary, he’d probably seen it many times before as Havoc was driving him home on clearer nights, but his mind couldn’t register a name for the place.
After driving gracefully over the gutter and what sounded like a garden outside of the motel, Mustang stopped the car and leaned over to his Lieutenant.
“Havoc...”
The Lieutenant grunted and shifted in his seat.
“Havoc!”
“Uh... what’s...” Havoc mumbled softly before waking up a little more and doing a double take at the Colonel’s face being so close, “We’re not there yet, are we?”
“No, but it’s too dangerous to continue on from here,” the Colonel replied, jerking his head back towards the windscreen of the car.
“Where are we then, Sir?” Havoc slurred, rubbing tiredly at his eyes.
“A motel. We’ll stay here for the night. Grab your coat, it’s cold.”
“I figured, Sir,” Havoc replied sarcastically. Mustang ignored him.
Once they were both rugged up in their coats, Mustang pocketed the car keys and the pair headed out into the snow for the short walk to the motel’s front door. Havoc pulled his collar up over his face in a futile attempt to protect his face from the stinging snow, and Mustang had to lunge to grasp the back of his Lieutenant’s coat to stop him from stumbling drunkenly face-first into the glass front door of the building.
“We’ll stay here, then,” Mustang said, pausing at the doorstep to shake the snow off his greatcoat.
“Great idea, Mustang. I really don’t wanna go back out there again,” Havoc said, trying to ruffle the snow out of his hair but instead falling dizzily to the side.
Sighing, the Colonel slung his Lieutenant’s arms around his shoulders and dragged him into the motel.
II. Moonlight
“Hello, and welcome to Moonlight,” the receptionist at the desk greeted them. She apparently saw no need to make a comment on the fact that a Colonel of the National Army was carrying his blind-drunk subordinate into a motel in the middle of a snowy night.
“We need a room for the night,” Mustang said shortly. Havoc nodded sleepily against his shoulder.
“We only have one single room spare, but we can bring a cot up for one of you to sleep on.”
“We’d appreciate it.”
“Here’s your key, then,” the woman smiled, putting a key with a plain white tag marked with the number 2441, “Your room is on level two, on the first landing. I’ll send someone up with the cot and your billing information as soon as possible.”
“Thank you,” Mustang replied. He didn’t know why, but the plain, unreadable face of the woman irked him, so he quickly headed towards the stairs and nudged Havoc in the ribs.
“Can you walk up the stairs?”
“Got as far as here, didn’t I?”
“With my help. I’ll walk behind you in case you fall.”
The motel seemed like your standard one-night accommodation; the sort of place a businessman might stay overnight if he was travelling to Central for a deal, or a place where any regular travellers who accidentally stayed on the road too long could sleep it off, no matter what the time. The halls seemed quite scant and void of any decoration, painted with cheap whitewash paint that was chipping a little at the corners. The carpet was a cream colour; the only thing that wasn’t pale in colour that he’d seen so far was the check in desk, which had been mahogany and was obviously very new.
Roy looked up just in time to push Havoc back into balance, and continued to follow him up the stairs. Once they got to the next landing, Havoc questioned what their room number was. Jean nodded and turned right.
“If the numbers are in order it’ll be this way...” he murmured huskily over his shoulder.
It seemed Havoc’s ability to comprehend even the simplest of logic decreased even further when he was intoxicated. Roy smirked at his Lieutenant’s back and said nothing.
After about five minutes of wandering around the corridors, they found themselves back at the staircase; they had taken a right turn last time, and Roy soon discovered that their room was the first on the left.
“Must’ve mislabelled them or something...” Havoc muttered.
Roy took the key from his pocket, stepped around Havoc and unlocked the door, managing to keep a straight face the entire time; he thought that was rather admirable on its own.
The room wasn’t as bad as he’d assumed it would be; it was still so white as to remind him of a hospital rather than a motel, but so long as he didn’t get blinded by all of the pale colours he assumed the night would go quickly, and they could both call into work late the next morning citing something superfluous such as traffic conditions; the conditions weren’t shaping up to be all that stellar in the first place, so it wouldn’t be as if he was downright lying.
He half-led, half-dragged Havoc over to the bed and pushed him down onto it. Havoc groaned and grabbed Mustang’s wrist as his head spun from the alcohol, and the Colonel’s hand briefly grasped his before Havoc found himself lying safely back against the pillow.
“I’ll get you a cup of water,” Roy said, and Havoc nodded gratefully in reply.
Everything here seemed as plain and ambiguous in the room as it had in the lobby and in the hallways. Roy’s father had once told him that every snowflake was unique in size and pattern, but he had been too wrapped up in his juvenile delight to really care. The entire Moonlight Motel seemed almost like the snow outside; the overwhelming white could have been beautiful and unique by itself, but when grouped together, not one thing stood out from the next.
Rinsing out one of the mugs he found in the cupboard before starting to fill it with water from the kitchen tap, Roy idly thumbed at a small chip in the porcelain while the cup filled and watched his subordinate, who was writhing on the bed in the corner of the single room and attempting to shield his eyes from the lamp on the bedside table. Grinning briefly, Roy walked back to the side of the bed, grasped Havoc’s wrist just as tightly as Havoc had held his just minutes beforehand and pressed the mug against his palm.
Havoc grunted at the sudden cold against his skin, but soon gave Roy a lopsided, thankful grin and took the mug.
“Thanks, Boss.”
Roy nodded in acknowledgement, and then sat himself on the end of the bed, away from Havoc’s feet to await the arrival of his cot.
III. Sheets
By the time Roy’s cot had been brought up to the room and set up by the courteous-looking maid, Havoc’s had sobered a little and was no longer squinting and groaning every time the light flickered on and off due to the snowstorm. Roy smoothed the sheets on the cot meticulously; the cloth was bizarrely clean for motel linen; probably either very well cared for or very new.
Havoc grunted from under his blankets, and Roy turned to face him.
“When did it get so cold?”
Mustang smirked.
“Since you started sobering up, Second Lieutenant.”
“Kind of wish I was drunk again,” Havoc rubbed his eyes irritably, “I don’t think they’re going to be rolling in an endless supply of blankets tonight, Boss.”
“Just got to be as warm as possible, then,” Roy said, making a point of reaching down to take off his soaking wet boots and socks.
“They’ll be warm once they’re dry, you know,” Havoc said feebly.
“But until then they’re going to be uncomfortable and cold,” Mustang countered.
“It’s going to be cold anyway,” Havoc said, looking at the small window on the other side of the room; it was totally covered with snow.
“I don’t see why you have such a grudge against taking off your boots, Lieutenant; I would daresay most soldiers can’t wait for the end of the day so they can step out of them.”
“It’s just that I’m not all that coordinated when I’m drunk, Sir.”
The Colonel almost laughed.
“And what would that have to do with anything.”
“I’m going to look like an ass trying to touch my own feet.”
“You’ll be needing help, then?”
“I don’t want to trouble you, Chief.”
“I can assure you that you’ve caused me enough trouble tonight for this one small favour to be negligible.”
“Thanks, Sir. That really makes me feel better, you know?”
“That was sarcasm, Lieutenant.”
“My Ma always told me it was the lowest form of wit, Sir.”
“Perhaps you should have listened more closely to the tone of voice in which she said it, Havoc.”
While the Second Lieutenant tried his best to wrap his alcohol-addled brain around what the Colonel said, said Colonel stood up and pulled back the sheets covering Havoc and slipped a supporting hand behind his back.
“Would you like to try by yourself first?”
“With all due respect Colonel, you are a bastard.”
“Duly noted, Lieutenant, but at the moment I’m more concerned with keeping the both of us as warm and comfortable as possible.”
Havoc grunted bitterly and pushed himself up onto his elbows. After his head stopped swimming, he leaned forward and tried to grab the lace on his right boot. He missed the lace spectacularly and almost fell over on top of himself as his head once again swam and his vision blurred.
“Okay, I’ll help you.”
“Didn’t ask for it, Sir.”
“I’m quite sure you don’t want to be up all night trying to undo your shoelaces either, Havoc.”
Mustang leaned down and tugged at Havoc’s shoelaces; they loosened and Havoc immediately began to look sulky. The Colonel tugged Havoc’s right boot off with both hands, and his knuckles gently brushed against the arc of his subordinate’s foot as he moved away. Jean shuddered despite his numbed reactions.
“Jeez, can you watch where you’re putting your fingers, Boss?”
“Ticklish, Havoc?”
“Of course not,” Havoc snorted; Roy reached down and yanked off his other boot and he almost jumped.
“Of course not,” Roy repeated, smirking. He tugged off Havoc’s damp socks and stuffed them into his boots before discarding them to the floor.
“It’s freezing,” Havoc grunted, wrinkling his nose.
“It often is when it snows,” Roy pointed out, before thumbing along his Second Lieutenant’s waistline and unsnapping the clips that held his coattails on his uniform.
“I didn’t say I needed help with those,” Havoc muttered as Mustang pulled them out from under him.
“Hmm, our greatcoats are probably almost dry by now...”
“Good, because we’re not going to have much else to keep us warm, Boss.”
“Doesn’t look like it,” Mustang replied, kneeling on the bed and leaning over Havoc in order to take off his sodden uniform jacket, “How in the world did you manage to get this wet?”
“I can’t remember back that far, to be honest.”
“You’re cold as ice, you know,” Mustang observed, pressing his palm to Havoc’s upper arm. He nonchalantly tossed Havoc’s jacket into the pile of clothes and then started on his own jacket and coattails.
“I’m still cold, Sir.”
“I highly doubt you want to get any more naked than that.”
“Sometimes they nights are awful cold and lonely...”
“Too much information, Havoc. And I can assure you that while the night may be cold, it is anything but lonely.”
Havoc was silent for a while after that, and Roy couldn’t tell if he’d said something that had upset him or if he’d just been confused in his drunken stupor. He was just about to finish undressing and slide into the cot when he felt Havoc’s hand on his arm.
“Just wait, Sir.”
Mustang turned around and smirked. Jean’s muscles were visibly steeled against the cold; his eyes were tired but surprisingly focused.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
The press of Havoc’s lips against his own was surprising, Roy thought, but not entirely unexpected. Roy could feel the sting of cheap liquor that burned the tongue and the numbing, rough taste of tobacco as Havoc’s lips worked roughly but slowly against his. The blond man pulled him down and slipped a single chilled hand just underneath his dress shirt, making him shiver as tiny cold points flashed across his skin with the movement of Havoc’s fingers.
They eventually parted, dark eyes meeting blue from way too close. Havoc’s lips were swollen and moist and his eyes were soft.
“I’m still cold, Sir.”
“There’s no need to be cold alone, Lieutenant.”
IV. Skin
It was still cold outside, Mustang noted somewhere in the back of his mind. It was still snowing, it was still clouded and they were still trapped with one another for as long as it took for the storm to cease, or as long as it took to find the motel under the piles of snow.
It was still cold outside, but they both felt warm.
Havoc’s tongue pressed against his fingertips, and Mustang smiled, tracing his thumb along the gentle curve at the corner of his subordinate’s mouth as he rolled his lips across sensitive skin. He was unrefined, Mustang thought as he felt Havoc’s tongue dip between his index and middle fingers with little grace, but he certainly wasn’t without skill. Roy shivered a little as Havoc pulled away slowly, running his tongue along the length of his fingers before biting gently down on the tips. Feeling Mustang shudder in his lap, Havoc grinned and gently brushed his tongue across rough fingertips, and he was rather proud to hear a soft, breathy moan come from Mustang’s lips. What had been thinking about Havoc being unrefined, Mustang wondered. He couldn’t quite remember.
“Havoc,” Mustang breathed, watching a thin line of saliva connect his fingers and his subordinate’s tongue for a brief moment, before it broke as they parted.
“Yes, Sir?” Havoc smiled, eyes still clouded from the alcohol but also surprisingly clear as he seized his Colonel’s wrist and proceeded to draw a long, wet line across his palm with his tongue.
“Nothing,” Mustang managed to say, fingertips brushing along Havoc’s cheek rigidly as the younger man continued to tease him with perfectly timed swipes of his tongue, nibbles of his teeth and brushes of his lips. Havoc grinned again and slid his hand behind Mustang’s neck, sharply tugging him down but refusing to kiss him when their faces were barely an inch apart.
“Bastard,” Mustang said huskily, flicking out his tongue and managing to brush the tip of Havoc’s nose. Havoc didn’t respond through words, but his actions spoke so loud it almost deafened Roy as he watched his lover lean forward, eyes open from far too close. He felt the pressure of Havoc’s lips before he felt the hand slide away from his neck and down his back to where his uniform pants were hanging low on his hips. The Colonel broke away sharply at the feeling of smooth fingers dip below the waistline of his pants. Havoc stared, unsure of why Roy reacted so sharply; he avoided his face, feeling almost as shy as he felt when he wasn’t sobering up. The Colonel’s skin was pale and looked ghostly in the half-light provided by the fluorescent lamp.
“Too fast,” Mustang murmured, “You need to slow down.”
“Aah, with all due respect Sir, you don’t seem the type to say something like that.”
“You misunderstand me, Havoc,” Roy smirked, pressing down against him and brushing across his nipple with a rough swipe of the tongue, “It would be impolite to skip my solo before the final act, would it not?”
“I can’t say it wouldn’t help to take you down a few notches you really do need to fall, Sir.”
“Still, can’t let you have all the fun,” Mustang purred, before once again poking his tongue over his lips and pressing it against Havoc’s bare chest. Havoc felt the heat of the Colonel’s mouth, the warmth of his body, the insistence in his movements and the short, deliberate intakes of breath on his skin, and he gasped and arched up into the touch. Mustang halted.
“I was going to tease you, but it feels like you don’t really need it,” he said, squirming against Havoc’s lap.
“Sir,” Havoc started, before feeling suddenly out of breath as Mustang’s mouth closed over his nipple and sucked lightly, teeth closing over the sensitive skin softly and tongue darting out in soft touches that made him shiver.
“Mmm, yes?” Mustang questioned, but his mind went pleasantly blank as Havoc’s large hands slid over his ass through the material of his pants.
“Sir, I want...” Havoc’s mouth snapped shut like a trap before he could finish and he looked away, avoiding Mustang’s eyes.
“Want what?” Mustang asked.
“I want... I want to... you to...” Havoc continued, hands working across Roy’s ass and lower back, as if the motion almost soothed him.
“You want to fuck me?” Mustang questioned, sounding casual as you could please.
“You don’t have to put it like that, Sir!” Havoc exclaimed, and Mustang felt the heat in his face and neck as he moved to kiss him.
“Why not?”
“That makes it sound like there’s nothing between us.”
Mustang paused for a moment, both terrified and ecstatic that Jean considered that there was something between them.
“Sir?”
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Aah, I’ve never...”
“What, Lieutenant?” Mustang asked, starting to feel slightly frustrated as his cock ached between his legs.
“I’ve only been with women before.”
“I see,” Mustang said, “Well, are you sure that this is what you want?”
Havoc nodded until his head spun. He groaned and fell back onto the pillow, and Mustang smirked and delicately brushed his fingers over Jean’s forehead.
“Alright, I’ll...”
“If you don’t mind me asking, Sir,” Havoc interrupted, “What about you?”
“I know enough to make it enjoyable for us both,” Mustang stated, and Havoc didn’t ask any further questions.
It had been a long time since he’d had to transmute anything but fire. Both fire and water held some common elements, but they arrays using for transmuting the two were slightly different. Looking at the white mug Jean had been drinking out of only hours before, and the slight traces of dust left on the bedside table due to the misuse of the room. Roy highly doubted that the place was even half as busy on regular nights.
Unwillingly sliding off Havoc’s stomach for a few brief moments, Roy reached over and placed one finger down in the dust, desperately trying to remember the array. He traced in the dust for a while until he began to remember, and Jean watched, obviously confused by what he was doing. After about five minutes, Roy seemed satisfied with his work and pressed his palm down onto the dresser. Light flared up for a brief moment, and after that the cup still stood in the same place, looking totally unchanged.
“Should be fine now,” Mustang muttered, sliding his fingers into the cup. The water that had been inside was now a lot thicker in substance, but also posed less friction. It was warm from the energy of the transmutation. Perfect.
“Sir, do you need me to...” Havoc started, but Mustang pressed a hand against his mouth to silence him.
“Do you know how?”
“Not at all, Boss. I didn’t think there was a refined technique to it.”
“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, Lieutenant, but I’m not sure I trust you with something that delicate while you’re drunk and uncoordinated.”
“Sorry about that, Mustang,” Havoc said, looking sheepish.
“Nothing to be sorry for,” Roy responded, putting the mug down again and taking off his uniform pants.
“I could probably be doing that,” Jean said, eyes fixed on the tent in Roy’s boxers and cheeks tinted slightly pink. The Colonel smirked over his shoulder and, leaving his underwear on, crawled into Havoc’s lap.
“Go ahead, then.”
Havoc looked like he was trying to decide whether to die of fright or burst with the overwhelming anticipation of the situation. Mustang leaned down and kissed his neck softly, flicking his earlobe with his tongue before drawing back and getting up onto his knees.
Havoc took that as his cue and he reached forward, hooked his fingers in the waistband of his superior’s underwear and, after one last deep breath, tugged them down.
Mustang chuckled, sliding away to take the garment off completely before sitting back in Havoc’s lap, rocking his hips roughly against the blond man’s crotch and breathing in slow, strained moans as he felt Havoc react to the friction.
“I don’t know why you’re so nervous,” Mustang breathed, rocking his hips particularly hard and purring when he felt Havoc arch up.
“Sir,” Havoc started, watching wide eyed as Mustang arched and writhed in his lap, “Can we please... ah... get on with it?”
The smirk that was on Mustang’s face just a few moments before returned with vengeance, and the Colonel nodded and slowly slipped his fingers under the top of his subordinate’s uniform pants.
“Commando, Lieutenant? I wouldn’t have expected it from you.”
Havoc avoided his eyes again, and Mustang chuckled and kissed him again.
“I’m only teasing.”
“In more ways than one, Sir.”
“Speaking of which... please pass me that mug, Havoc.”
The Second Lieutenant complied, shivering a little as Mustang slid his fingers out of his pants to hold the mug.
“Boss? I think you forgot something.”
“What did I forget, Lieutenant?”
“I’m still not naked, Sir.”
“I’m more than capable of finishing the job once I’m fully prepared.”
“Err, won’t the stuff in my mug stain my pants, Sir? This is the only good pair I have.”
“Since when have you been concerned about things like that?”
“Since you decided we needed to look more presentable, Sir.”
Roy grunted, obviously annoyed. He unzipped his Lieutenant’s pants and started tugging them down.
“It’s probably going to stain anyway, looking at you... really not putting me in the mood...”
“I didn’t assume that this was going to happen, Sir,” Havoc said, looking almost distraught. Roy paused after that, feeling the slightest ache of guilt in the pit of his stomach. As he was tugging the material away from Havoc’s body, he leaned down and pressed soft kisses to his skin as it was exposed. Pressing his lips against the inside of his thigh and smiling deviously, Roy swiped his tongue roughly along Havoc’s balls once and then pulled away, feeling that the time for teasing was quickly drawing to a close.
Drawing himself up onto his knees, he reached over and grabbed the mug from the bedside table. Dipping his fingers into it and carefully slicking them, he reached around and took a few deep, relaxing breaths before slowly pressing them inside. He almost moaned from his own touch as he moved his fingers, feeling his cock twitch as he started a slow rhythm, resisting the urge to jerk off as the same time.
Havoc watched his superior officer with wide eyes, feeling that the moment was almost surreal. Mustang was arched in the pale light, skin slick with sweat and head thrown back as he pleasured himself. His thighs were quivering just enough to be noticeable against the sides of Havoc’s legs, and his cock twitched every so often as his fingers moved. Havoc felt he should be doing more, and reached out to curl his hand around his superior’s cock. The older man moaned and jerked forward with his hips, looking at Havoc through suddenly soft eyes. He brushed his thumb over the head and slid his hand over the entire length of Mustang’s cock three times before moving down to gently toy with his balls.
“Stop,” Mustang moaned, pulling his fingers free and moving away from Havoc, “Stop or I’ll...”
“Sorry, Boss.”
“No need to be,” Mustang purred, reaching over to pour some of the slick substance he’d transmuted in the cup into the palm of his hand, “Lay back and I’ll prep you.”
Havoc fell back onto the pillow, feeling stiff as a board in more than one sense of the phrase. Mustang curled his slicked fingers around the head of Jean’s cock and stroked him up and down twice, making sure the lube was evenly distributed. Havoc moaned and arched up at the touch, and precum glistened at the head of his cock as he pressed up into Roy’s touch. Mustang purred and stilled his hand at the base, licking the tip of Havoc’s cock clean before once again getting to his knees and kneeling over his subordinate. Holding Havoc’s cock steady beneath him with one shaking hand, Mustang carefully brushed the head against his entrance, feeling his cock twitched when he heard Havoc moan in time with him. He positioned himself; preparing to take Havoc when he felt a hand grab the one he had holding Havoc’s cock.
“Chief,” Havoc murmured, eyes as clear as Mustang had seen them all night, “Are you sure you want this?”
Roy stared at his subordinate for a moment, and almost laughed at the serious look on his face. Leaning down as far as he could, he poked his tongue over his lips and flicked it towards his lover. Jean got the hint and leaned up, and they brushed their tongues together for a moment before moving in for a proper kiss. Roy’s finger traced soft, tickling patterns up the length of Havoc’s cock, and the older man moaned.
“I’m perfectly sure,” Mustang purred, before leaning back against and holding Havoc’s dick steady as he slowly took him inside.
It had been years since he’d felt the awkward burn, the steady pressure. He’d mostly slept with women all his life, and he’d forsaken men for so long now that it felt painful, even when compared to the old days when he’d been younger, inexperienced, and stupid. Havoc’s hands were a warm presence on his thighs, supporting him as he moved down inch by slow inch. As he felt the head of Havoc’s cock barely place pressure on that spot, he cried out and arched his back, thinking that he could see himself getting much more accustomed to this in the future. And Havoc - innocent, chain-smoking, nonchalant Havoc - was watching him so attentively and holding him so carefully that it only reaffirmed the stupid idea of commitment in Roy’s mind.
Finally feeling his thighs touch Havoc’s, Mustang stilled and waited until he felt a little more comfortable.
“Boss? Err, can I call you Roy, Sir?” Havoc asked dumbly, feeling like he should be doing more, “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” Roy breathed, not sure which question he was answering.
“Are you sure?”
Despite himself, Roy laughed, “I’m not a teenage girl, you know.”
“I know, Sir.”
“Roy,” he corrected, and then wondered why he did.
“Roy,” Havoc repeated, smiling uncertainly.
Roy nodded and then moved up slowly, pressing down again shortly after and making Havoc moan. His pace gradually quickened as he heard Havoc’s soft, breathy encouragements; eventually setting on a sharp, rough pace on his own, ignoring the force of Havoc’s hips rocking up to meet him, Roy began riding Jean’s cock hard, bouncing up and down on his knees and gripping Havoc’s thighs with his hands so hard he was sure it would leave a mark.
He wasn’t sure why he reacted so strongly when he felt Havoc’s hand on his stomach, but as it started to slowly snake its way down and to his cock Mustang moaned and threw his head back, shivering when he felt the other hand roughly brushing against his right nipple. Havoc was a fast learner apparently, as he quickly began stroking Roy’s cock with one hand and teasing the rest of his exposed skin with the other.
Roy knew it wouldn’t last nearly as long as he wanted it to, but it was good all the same, and when he heard Havoc cry out, felt him arch up against him, and felt the rush of liquid heat through him, he felt no regrets. Wrinkling his nose as he eased off and mindful of how uncomfortable he felt at being so close and not being able to reach the top, he reached down and grabbed one of the spare sheets from his cot and wiped the semen away from his ass and thighs, relaxing and waiting until he was sure most of it had leaked out of his body before moving again.
Havoc leaned forward and hooked an arm around his stomach, dragging him closer and making him stare. The younger man looked up, blushed and apologized for his inexperience before taking the head of Mustang’s cock into his mouth, sucking and swiping his tongue with such delicate ease while his fingers toyed with his Colonel’s balls and thighs. When Mustang felt the blunt pressure of one finger pressing against his entrance, he moaned and thrust forward, his dick hitting the back of Havoc’s throat as he came, harder than he had for a good while.
Jean pulled away, snagged the spare sheet Mustang had used to clean himself up and coughed into it roughly, spitting his superior’s semen into the cloth and wiping his mouth vigorously.
“Don’t like that?” Mustang purred, and Havoc shook his head, still coughing into the material of the sheet. The Colonel chuckled and pulled Havoc up for a kiss, probing around the younger man’s mouth for his own taste with his tongue before pulling away.
It was awkward afterwards, but it could have been worse. Mustang tossed the extra sheet into the dirty linen basket in the hallway outside (modesty be damned), and then shut off the light, slid into his bunk and went to sleep. He didn’t ask to join Havoc on the bed, and Havoc didn’t ask.
They both fell asleep, despite the questions on their minds and the howling wind outside.
V. Sunlight
When Havoc awoke the next morning, Mustang was already dressed and ready to go and hand the room key in.
The same smiling clerk as the night before was manning the front desk, and Roy wondered if she’d even slept the night before.
The sunlight outside was pale, but there; it reflected off the snow and made even the usually pitch-black military car look blindingly bright. It was a relief to see things had cleared up after the storm the night before.
They headed out to the car, and Havoc said that he’d drive this time, and Mustang didn’t argue. Once they were in the car, Havoc locked the doors and started up the windscreen wipers to clear the excess snow.
“Sir, about last night...”
“What about it?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Whatever are you sorry for?” Roy smirked.
“Nothing, I suppose,” Havoc replied sheepishly.
“It was between us. It was nothing more than a one-off thing. You don’t have to pursue it if you don’t want, don’t have to tell anyone, don’t have to speak of it again,” Mustang said, trying his best to sound like he didn’t care. It was easily one of the hardest lies he’d had to tell in recent times.
“Alright, Sir,” Havoc said, looking uncertain, “But, err, what if I do?”
“What, tell someone?”
“No, want to take it further.”
Mustang started, and then smiled.
“We’ll just have to wait and see.”
The chips of ice rushing away from the car as they drove away looked bizarrely bright in the pale white morning sunlight.
END
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