"One More Drink" Mustang x Havoc for FMA_IHOP anonymous kink,
This was done for the FMA_IHOP anonymous Kink meme..
The prompt was Havoc x Roy- prompt cigarettes + beer = sex.. Extra points if you can make it post chapter 38 manga!!
"It was very nice of you to take me out to drink, sir."
"Please, Havoc. I'm not your commanding officer any more. You can call me Roy."
Jean would have shifted nervously in his seat, but Solaris- no, Lust- had seen to that.
"Ah, um. okay.. Roy." His name- it just seemed so foreign rolling off his lips. "You can call me Jean." Jean tipped the ash on his quickly dwindling cigarette down into the ashtray and took a long swig off his beer.
"So, you said that this is the bar you and Brigadeer General Hughes used to come to?" As soon as the words left his lips, Jean immediately regretted saying it when he watched a flash of pain cross Roy's features. For one brief moment, the mask that the man always wore dropped, and Jean saw the anger and sadness that brimmed just below the surface.
"Let's have another beer." Roy replied simply, and Jean found himself agreeing.
"Yes, sir."
Jean wasn't sure how many beers they had drank, or how many cigarettes he had smoked. Sometime during the night, he had even got Roy to try one. It was even worth wasting the cigarette to watch Roy's face turn green and snuff it out after just one long puff.
The night turned into a blur. He vaguely remembered that Roy ended up sitting in his lap in the chair while the bartender wheeled them out, explaining that they had already had enough to drink and it was time to go.
But Jean didn't remember how he had ended up at Roy's small house, up the single step to the front door, and inside. Clothes had come off quickly after that, and once again he found the man that used to be his commanding officer in his lap.
It seemed so surreal. If he wasn't seeing it with his alcohol-dulled eyes, he wouldn't have believed it- he still wasn't sure that he did.
But here it was. His Colonel was kneeling over him in his chair, Jean buried up to the hilt. Those hands- the hands that could snap and kill- were on his back, his fingernails making small red lines down the blond's back. His head was buried in Jean's shoulder, moaning his name like it was some holy mantra.
When Roy started to move again, Jean's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't even known if he could feel. But this was more- this was not just feeling, it was everything. The touch of Roy's hands- the pads of his thumbs and middle fingers rough from his pytotex gloves, The smell of ash and smoke and musk, the taste of sweat running down his forehead-over his nose and down to his lips, the sound of his name- HIS NAME- rolling off of the man's tongue, and the sight of Roy Mustang- the mighty Flame Alchemist- here, with him deep in the throes of lust and need.
Thin, muscular hips dipped down against Jean, and the blond would have given the world to be able to move with this man in their sensual dance. He could feel the pressure building in him- even though he could not feel himself inside of Roy, his body was well aware of what was going on. His brain was sending signals- he was on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into oblivion.
He wanted to warn Roy, to tell him that he was sending him over the edge, that he was his entire world- this moment was all he needed, but it only came out as a strangled groan. Jean's body convulsed and he surrendered completely to his Colonel- the man who he would follow to the ends of the earth, giving up his very essence to him.
From somewhere deep inside the pulses of pleasure he could hear Roy groan his name, could feel his Colonel shudder above him and he knew that Roy had surrendered as well.
It seemed to take a lifetime for his breath to return to him, for his heart to stop running a marathon. By the time he had opened his eyes, Roy had already pulled away and was standing in front of him, starting to put on his clothes again.
Jean's heart froze- was that it then, was he supposed to leave and never talk about it again? Had it just been a drunk mistake by both of them? Why wouldn't Roy say something? The oppressive silence weighed on his shoulders- and his heart.
"R-r-oy?" It was the first thing he had said since they had entered the alchemist's house.
"Yes, Jean?"
And that was it. It was over. He could tell that was it in the tone of voice. It was the voice that Roy used in the office- the mask that he always wore over his true emotions. He had worked with the man long enough to know what that meant.
"N-nothing, sir. I will find a ride home." Jean buttoned his pants back up, then bent down to retrieve his discarded shirt- hoping, praying that he could keep the breaking emotion out of his voice until he was out of the house.
"Jean?"
"Yes....sir?"
"I didn't say you could leave, solider."
"Yes, sir."
The prompt was Havoc x Roy- prompt cigarettes + beer = sex.. Extra points if you can make it post chapter 38 manga!!
"It was very nice of you to take me out to drink, sir."
"Please, Havoc. I'm not your commanding officer any more. You can call me Roy."
Jean would have shifted nervously in his seat, but Solaris- no, Lust- had seen to that.
"Ah, um. okay.. Roy." His name- it just seemed so foreign rolling off his lips. "You can call me Jean." Jean tipped the ash on his quickly dwindling cigarette down into the ashtray and took a long swig off his beer.
"So, you said that this is the bar you and Brigadeer General Hughes used to come to?" As soon as the words left his lips, Jean immediately regretted saying it when he watched a flash of pain cross Roy's features. For one brief moment, the mask that the man always wore dropped, and Jean saw the anger and sadness that brimmed just below the surface.
"Let's have another beer." Roy replied simply, and Jean found himself agreeing.
"Yes, sir."
Jean wasn't sure how many beers they had drank, or how many cigarettes he had smoked. Sometime during the night, he had even got Roy to try one. It was even worth wasting the cigarette to watch Roy's face turn green and snuff it out after just one long puff.
The night turned into a blur. He vaguely remembered that Roy ended up sitting in his lap in the chair while the bartender wheeled them out, explaining that they had already had enough to drink and it was time to go.
But Jean didn't remember how he had ended up at Roy's small house, up the single step to the front door, and inside. Clothes had come off quickly after that, and once again he found the man that used to be his commanding officer in his lap.
It seemed so surreal. If he wasn't seeing it with his alcohol-dulled eyes, he wouldn't have believed it- he still wasn't sure that he did.
But here it was. His Colonel was kneeling over him in his chair, Jean buried up to the hilt. Those hands- the hands that could snap and kill- were on his back, his fingernails making small red lines down the blond's back. His head was buried in Jean's shoulder, moaning his name like it was some holy mantra.
When Roy started to move again, Jean's breath caught in his throat. He hadn't even known if he could feel. But this was more- this was not just feeling, it was everything. The touch of Roy's hands- the pads of his thumbs and middle fingers rough from his pytotex gloves, The smell of ash and smoke and musk, the taste of sweat running down his forehead-over his nose and down to his lips, the sound of his name- HIS NAME- rolling off of the man's tongue, and the sight of Roy Mustang- the mighty Flame Alchemist- here, with him deep in the throes of lust and need.
Thin, muscular hips dipped down against Jean, and the blond would have given the world to be able to move with this man in their sensual dance. He could feel the pressure building in him- even though he could not feel himself inside of Roy, his body was well aware of what was going on. His brain was sending signals- he was on the edge of a precipice, ready to fall into oblivion.
He wanted to warn Roy, to tell him that he was sending him over the edge, that he was his entire world- this moment was all he needed, but it only came out as a strangled groan. Jean's body convulsed and he surrendered completely to his Colonel- the man who he would follow to the ends of the earth, giving up his very essence to him.
From somewhere deep inside the pulses of pleasure he could hear Roy groan his name, could feel his Colonel shudder above him and he knew that Roy had surrendered as well.
It seemed to take a lifetime for his breath to return to him, for his heart to stop running a marathon. By the time he had opened his eyes, Roy had already pulled away and was standing in front of him, starting to put on his clothes again.
Jean's heart froze- was that it then, was he supposed to leave and never talk about it again? Had it just been a drunk mistake by both of them? Why wouldn't Roy say something? The oppressive silence weighed on his shoulders- and his heart.
"R-r-oy?" It was the first thing he had said since they had entered the alchemist's house.
"Yes, Jean?"
And that was it. It was over. He could tell that was it in the tone of voice. It was the voice that Roy used in the office- the mask that he always wore over his true emotions. He had worked with the man long enough to know what that meant.
"N-nothing, sir. I will find a ride home." Jean buttoned his pants back up, then bent down to retrieve his discarded shirt- hoping, praying that he could keep the breaking emotion out of his voice until he was out of the house.
"Jean?"
"Yes....sir?"
"I didn't say you could leave, solider."
"Yes, sir."