Addiction (Mustang x Havoc) For 12_Fics #2- Addiction
Title: Addiction
Author: SeaweedOtter
Set & Theme: #1, #2- Addiction
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Warnings: Some implied yaoi- nothing graphic
Word Count: 1161
Disclaimer: No spoilers, really
Summary: Some addictions are safer than others
There was little that Jean Havoc loved more than the few minutes that he could get away from everyone and everything, step out of the building, and take a cigarette break.
They were never long enough, and he had gotten good at what he called 'power puffing'. He didn't get the time to enjoy the cigarette because he inhaled it so quickly, but at least he still got the benefit of the nicotine getting into his system. And then there were the very rare occasions that Roy Mustang actually got to take a few minutes out of his very busy schedule, and was able to accompany Jean on his cigarette breaks on the back lawn of Central Command.
As much as they both hated it, they had to stay professional, even when they were away from the prying eyes inside the building. The few times when they were able to get a few minutes together, they were careful about what they said or did. But it always started the same way.
"Hello, Lieutenant."
"Hello, Colonel. Light, sir?" Jean would always ask, and Roy already knew. He already had the glove on his hand, his fingers at the ready. One snap, and the deed was done. The flame wildly danced up towards the sky. The extraordinarily flammable paper turned red for less than a heartbeat before it dulled to a charcoal gray. Seconds later, the tobacco on the inside caught fire as well. With a few brief inhales, the nicotine started to swim throughout his system.
Roy watched with a smile as his lover's face turned calm. All the worry and stress that has been showing in his bright blue eyes just melted away. His shoulders slumped slightly, and as he let out the first long, smoky breath, the alchemist saw him relax his entire body.
"Thanks, sir." The smile on his face told the whole story. He sank down into a sitting position next to the alchemist, with his back to the huge oak, trying to decide how slowly he could smoke the cigarette and still not get in trouble for taking so long of a break. Of course, having his commanding officer (and lover) with him on his break meant that he could make the excuse that he had been helping him with something. Mustang would, of course, cooberate, and there was little else that Hawkeye could say about it.
Roy smiled. He could think of several things that he would love to "help" Jean with, but even a man with as many connections and as much influence as the Flame Alchemist still couldn't get away from the stigma of having a male lover.
Usually, little else would be said during these times. Jean was busy concentrating on the warm feeling of the cigarette between his teeth, and Roy enjoyed simply watching him enjoy this time he had almost to himself. It was a simple, happy time that they were able to enjoy in each other's company- together, yet not.
When it was finally done, Jean would let out a sigh, and keep the last breath of smoke waiting on the inside of his mouth for as long as he could, until he started to turn pale. His stomach churned and his lungs burned for oxygen. And just when he thought that he was going to turn blue and pass out, he let the breath out and took in a huge gasp of air, refilling his aching lungs with fresh, non smoky air.
"Ready, lieutenant?" Roy would always ask, offering his hand to help the taller man stand back up. As fast as he smoked those cigarettes, Jean usually ended up feeling slightly light headed for a few minutes until his system got used to the nicotine rush.
"Thank you, sir." Jean would, of course, always accept the hand up. And Roy never failed to give Jean's hand a small extra squeeze, holding onto it for just a couple of seconds more than was necessary after the tall man has gotten to his feet before letting go. Even just that little extra bit of contact that he got those few times they were able to meet outside was enough to sustain them throughout the day.
That minor touch became as much of an addiction for Jean as the nicotine from the cigarettes themselves. He craved even the slightest touch from his forbidden lover. And if they could get away with in a public area was all the better. Neither of them were particularly into anything kinky like exhibitionism, but the idea that they could give each other small signs of affection that were secret to the entire world- save them, gave them both that little extra incentive to get out of bed every day and trudge through the drudgery of the work day.
The knowing smile that they shared at that brief handhold only lasted a second, but that was all that was needed. Then, the masks of everyday life would go back on, and they would walk back to the building as a solider and his commanding officer.
At night, after the uniforms had come off and the roles of solider and officer has been left at the front door, Jean Havoc's two addictions came back to him with an even greater sense of urgency. He always have to have a cigarette first- no matter how much his body begged for his lover's touch, the alchemist's soft, full lips against his.
"Light, sir?" Just like when they were at work. It would start the same way. and just like at work, Roy would have the glove ready. Jean would smoke the cigarette even faster than he did at work. It never ceased to amaze Roy. This was the one time that the man had to actually enjoy his addiction, and he tried to get through it like a marathon runner in a race.
"You know, Jean. You can take your time. I'm not going anywhere." Roy smiled seductively and leaned against the doorway leading to the back porch- where Jean always took his smoke breaks at.
"I know, sir. But I don't want to waste the little bit of time that I get to spend with you."
In one practiced, fluid motion, Roy leaned forward, plucked the cigarette out of the man's mouth, and put it in the ashtray.- still half unsmoked and smoldering. "You can finish it later, lieutenant. That's an order." In the save movement, he pulled his hand away from the ashtray, grabbed Jean's wrist, and tugged him towards himself.
Jean gave one longing look at the cigarette- the end slowly fading from red to gray before falling forwards against a more insistent tug from his lover. "Yes, sir." Jean smiled and saluted, needing no further prodding to follow the alchemist towards the bedroom.
It was moments like these which Jean Havoc wondered which addiction had a harder hold on him, his cigarettes, or his lover.
Author: SeaweedOtter
Set & Theme: #1, #2- Addiction
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Jean Havoc x Roy Mustang
Rating: PG-13
Genres: Romance, Humor
Warnings: Some implied yaoi- nothing graphic
Word Count: 1161
Disclaimer: No spoilers, really
Summary: Some addictions are safer than others
There was little that Jean Havoc loved more than the few minutes that he could get away from everyone and everything, step out of the building, and take a cigarette break.
They were never long enough, and he had gotten good at what he called 'power puffing'. He didn't get the time to enjoy the cigarette because he inhaled it so quickly, but at least he still got the benefit of the nicotine getting into his system. And then there were the very rare occasions that Roy Mustang actually got to take a few minutes out of his very busy schedule, and was able to accompany Jean on his cigarette breaks on the back lawn of Central Command.
As much as they both hated it, they had to stay professional, even when they were away from the prying eyes inside the building. The few times when they were able to get a few minutes together, they were careful about what they said or did. But it always started the same way.
"Hello, Lieutenant."
"Hello, Colonel. Light, sir?" Jean would always ask, and Roy already knew. He already had the glove on his hand, his fingers at the ready. One snap, and the deed was done. The flame wildly danced up towards the sky. The extraordinarily flammable paper turned red for less than a heartbeat before it dulled to a charcoal gray. Seconds later, the tobacco on the inside caught fire as well. With a few brief inhales, the nicotine started to swim throughout his system.
Roy watched with a smile as his lover's face turned calm. All the worry and stress that has been showing in his bright blue eyes just melted away. His shoulders slumped slightly, and as he let out the first long, smoky breath, the alchemist saw him relax his entire body.
"Thanks, sir." The smile on his face told the whole story. He sank down into a sitting position next to the alchemist, with his back to the huge oak, trying to decide how slowly he could smoke the cigarette and still not get in trouble for taking so long of a break. Of course, having his commanding officer (and lover) with him on his break meant that he could make the excuse that he had been helping him with something. Mustang would, of course, cooberate, and there was little else that Hawkeye could say about it.
Roy smiled. He could think of several things that he would love to "help" Jean with, but even a man with as many connections and as much influence as the Flame Alchemist still couldn't get away from the stigma of having a male lover.
Usually, little else would be said during these times. Jean was busy concentrating on the warm feeling of the cigarette between his teeth, and Roy enjoyed simply watching him enjoy this time he had almost to himself. It was a simple, happy time that they were able to enjoy in each other's company- together, yet not.
When it was finally done, Jean would let out a sigh, and keep the last breath of smoke waiting on the inside of his mouth for as long as he could, until he started to turn pale. His stomach churned and his lungs burned for oxygen. And just when he thought that he was going to turn blue and pass out, he let the breath out and took in a huge gasp of air, refilling his aching lungs with fresh, non smoky air.
"Ready, lieutenant?" Roy would always ask, offering his hand to help the taller man stand back up. As fast as he smoked those cigarettes, Jean usually ended up feeling slightly light headed for a few minutes until his system got used to the nicotine rush.
"Thank you, sir." Jean would, of course, always accept the hand up. And Roy never failed to give Jean's hand a small extra squeeze, holding onto it for just a couple of seconds more than was necessary after the tall man has gotten to his feet before letting go. Even just that little extra bit of contact that he got those few times they were able to meet outside was enough to sustain them throughout the day.
That minor touch became as much of an addiction for Jean as the nicotine from the cigarettes themselves. He craved even the slightest touch from his forbidden lover. And if they could get away with in a public area was all the better. Neither of them were particularly into anything kinky like exhibitionism, but the idea that they could give each other small signs of affection that were secret to the entire world- save them, gave them both that little extra incentive to get out of bed every day and trudge through the drudgery of the work day.
The knowing smile that they shared at that brief handhold only lasted a second, but that was all that was needed. Then, the masks of everyday life would go back on, and they would walk back to the building as a solider and his commanding officer.
At night, after the uniforms had come off and the roles of solider and officer has been left at the front door, Jean Havoc's two addictions came back to him with an even greater sense of urgency. He always have to have a cigarette first- no matter how much his body begged for his lover's touch, the alchemist's soft, full lips against his.
"Light, sir?" Just like when they were at work. It would start the same way. and just like at work, Roy would have the glove ready. Jean would smoke the cigarette even faster than he did at work. It never ceased to amaze Roy. This was the one time that the man had to actually enjoy his addiction, and he tried to get through it like a marathon runner in a race.
"You know, Jean. You can take your time. I'm not going anywhere." Roy smiled seductively and leaned against the doorway leading to the back porch- where Jean always took his smoke breaks at.
"I know, sir. But I don't want to waste the little bit of time that I get to spend with you."
In one practiced, fluid motion, Roy leaned forward, plucked the cigarette out of the man's mouth, and put it in the ashtray.- still half unsmoked and smoldering. "You can finish it later, lieutenant. That's an order." In the save movement, he pulled his hand away from the ashtray, grabbed Jean's wrist, and tugged him towards himself.
Jean gave one longing look at the cigarette- the end slowly fading from red to gray before falling forwards against a more insistent tug from his lover. "Yes, sir." Jean smiled and saluted, needing no further prodding to follow the alchemist towards the bedroom.
It was moments like these which Jean Havoc wondered which addiction had a harder hold on him, his cigarettes, or his lover.