Fiction: Behind Closed Doors (R)
Title: Behind Closed Doors
Author: snarry_fan7
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Archer/Kimblee, mention of Roy/Ed
Rating: R
Warnings: None, just some swearing, sexual innuendo/language, threatening atmosphere
Summary: "You might want to be careful where you aim that gun. You never know what my hands will do."
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Author Notes: My second fic with this pairing. Another snapshot into the lives of the two men.
Archer didn’t even look up when his office door slammed open and quickly slammed shut again.
“I thought you were preparing for your assessment?” Archer scrawled his signature on yet another sheet of paper, barely finishing it before Kimblee plunked his ass down on the edge of the desk.
“Do you mind? I don’t care that you get to do whatever you want, but not all of us are so special to be State Alchemists. I have more than enough work to do without you distracting me.” Archer stood and marched out the door with a pile of reports in his arms.
Five minutes was apparently plenty of time for Kimblee to get himself into trouble. When Archer returned, Kimblee had managed to dump all the papers onto the floor and lay himself on the desk. His jacket was slung over a chair and his white shirt unbuttoned.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Archer strode back into his office and slammed the door behind him. “I don’t have time to deal with you today. Get out of here!”
Archer grabbed Kimblee by his shirt and raised his gun to the soft flesh beneath alchemist’s chin. Kimblee leered at him and raised a dangerous hand to Archer’s left cheek.
“You might want to be careful where you aim that gun. You never know what my hands will do.”
“Do you remember what happened the last time you went around blowing up officers? I doubt they would be so kind as to merely lock you up this time. Especially since there are no extenuating circumstances and no one would believe anything you said in your defense.” Archer looked smug as Kimblee’s eyes widened.
“Bastard, you’d dare bring that up now?” Kimblee didn’t lower his hand from Archer’s face, but continued glaring at the Colonel.
“Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean that I’m not going to bring up sensitive topics. Now get the fuck out of my office, Zolf.” Archer pushed the State Alchemist away, but kept his gun leveled at the man.
Kimblee suddenly smirked, “You’ll get into just as much trouble if you pull that trigger. Probably more, actually. State Alchemists are in short supply at the moment. I’m sure there’d be an inquiry if I wind up dead in your office. Oh, not to mention that everyone knows that I’m in here. Surely you don’t want to damage that perfect image you’ve built up for yourself.”
Archer was nearly apoplectic as he thumbed back the hammer. “There won’t be any questions if I just wound you a little. Everyone knows you’re a loose cannon-”
Slap!
"Heh.” Archer wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and smirked, pistol still aimed at the other man.
“Next time I’ll use both hands and you won’t fucking be laughing then.” Kimblee’s yellow eyes were glowing in his fury.
“You like this too damn much to kill me, just like you know I’m not going to kill you. You’d have no one to fuck with if you exploded me and you’re too much fun for me not to rile you up. You need a challenge and you’re not going to get that anywhere else. Not when Mustang is already occupied with that pipsqueak of an alchemist.” Archer had edged closer to Kimblee while he was speaking, and he reached out to stroke the Crimson Alchemist’s jaw with the barrel of the gun.
“You son-of-a-” Kimblee smashed his mouth against Archer’s and fell back against the desk.
“I-fucking-hate-you-” The two men pulled at fastenings, yanked at zippers, and ripped at shirts before it registered in their minds.
“Not even gonna be able to walk in a straight line when I’m done with you.” Archer’s prim accent was among the first things to go when he was…preoccupied.
Archer shoved Kimblee farther onto the desk; he had managed to pull off the alchemist’s white shirt and blood-red tank-top, and yank his trousers and underwear off his long legs. In response, Kimblee had ripped off the soldier’s shirt, buttons rolling all over the floor, and pulled his undershirt off as well.
“You’re not lowering your…gun.” Zolf leered at him
“Not when you have your hand still on my cheek.”
“A little danger in life is always good; wouldn’t be fun otherwise. Death by boredom makes for boring eulogies. Better to go out with a…bang.” Kimblee stroked his hand down Archer’s cheek and along his jaw. Archer mirrored the motion with his pistol.
And what an explosion it was…
~*~
“You know...”
“Hmm?”
“We should soundproof your office or something.”
“I would suggest we just stop fucking in here, but you love the thrill of doing it right under the Führer’s nose.”
“It’s not like we’re the only ones. Mustang has his Fullmetal pet. Not point in trying to count the number of times I’ve walked in on them…”
“Zolf, I don’t want to know. Go prep for your assessment.”
“You could…assess me.” Yet another leer.
“Go!”
Author: snarry_fan7
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Archer/Kimblee, mention of Roy/Ed
Rating: R
Warnings: None, just some swearing, sexual innuendo/language, threatening atmosphere
Summary: "You might want to be careful where you aim that gun. You never know what my hands will do."
Disclaimer: Not mine at all.
Author Notes: My second fic with this pairing. Another snapshot into the lives of the two men.
Archer didn’t even look up when his office door slammed open and quickly slammed shut again.
“I thought you were preparing for your assessment?” Archer scrawled his signature on yet another sheet of paper, barely finishing it before Kimblee plunked his ass down on the edge of the desk.
“Do you mind? I don’t care that you get to do whatever you want, but not all of us are so special to be State Alchemists. I have more than enough work to do without you distracting me.” Archer stood and marched out the door with a pile of reports in his arms.
Five minutes was apparently plenty of time for Kimblee to get himself into trouble. When Archer returned, Kimblee had managed to dump all the papers onto the floor and lay himself on the desk. His jacket was slung over a chair and his white shirt unbuttoned.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Archer strode back into his office and slammed the door behind him. “I don’t have time to deal with you today. Get out of here!”
Archer grabbed Kimblee by his shirt and raised his gun to the soft flesh beneath alchemist’s chin. Kimblee leered at him and raised a dangerous hand to Archer’s left cheek.
“You might want to be careful where you aim that gun. You never know what my hands will do.”
“Do you remember what happened the last time you went around blowing up officers? I doubt they would be so kind as to merely lock you up this time. Especially since there are no extenuating circumstances and no one would believe anything you said in your defense.” Archer looked smug as Kimblee’s eyes widened.
“Bastard, you’d dare bring that up now?” Kimblee didn’t lower his hand from Archer’s face, but continued glaring at the Colonel.
“Just because we’re fucking doesn’t mean that I’m not going to bring up sensitive topics. Now get the fuck out of my office, Zolf.” Archer pushed the State Alchemist away, but kept his gun leveled at the man.
Kimblee suddenly smirked, “You’ll get into just as much trouble if you pull that trigger. Probably more, actually. State Alchemists are in short supply at the moment. I’m sure there’d be an inquiry if I wind up dead in your office. Oh, not to mention that everyone knows that I’m in here. Surely you don’t want to damage that perfect image you’ve built up for yourself.”
Archer was nearly apoplectic as he thumbed back the hammer. “There won’t be any questions if I just wound you a little. Everyone knows you’re a loose cannon-”
Slap!
"Heh.” Archer wiped a trickle of blood from his lip and smirked, pistol still aimed at the other man.
“Next time I’ll use both hands and you won’t fucking be laughing then.” Kimblee’s yellow eyes were glowing in his fury.
“You like this too damn much to kill me, just like you know I’m not going to kill you. You’d have no one to fuck with if you exploded me and you’re too much fun for me not to rile you up. You need a challenge and you’re not going to get that anywhere else. Not when Mustang is already occupied with that pipsqueak of an alchemist.” Archer had edged closer to Kimblee while he was speaking, and he reached out to stroke the Crimson Alchemist’s jaw with the barrel of the gun.
“You son-of-a-” Kimblee smashed his mouth against Archer’s and fell back against the desk.
“I-fucking-hate-you-” The two men pulled at fastenings, yanked at zippers, and ripped at shirts before it registered in their minds.
“Not even gonna be able to walk in a straight line when I’m done with you.” Archer’s prim accent was among the first things to go when he was…preoccupied.
Archer shoved Kimblee farther onto the desk; he had managed to pull off the alchemist’s white shirt and blood-red tank-top, and yank his trousers and underwear off his long legs. In response, Kimblee had ripped off the soldier’s shirt, buttons rolling all over the floor, and pulled his undershirt off as well.
“You’re not lowering your…gun.” Zolf leered at him
“Not when you have your hand still on my cheek.”
“A little danger in life is always good; wouldn’t be fun otherwise. Death by boredom makes for boring eulogies. Better to go out with a…bang.” Kimblee stroked his hand down Archer’s cheek and along his jaw. Archer mirrored the motion with his pistol.
And what an explosion it was…
~*~
“You know...”
“Hmm?”
“We should soundproof your office or something.”
“I would suggest we just stop fucking in here, but you love the thrill of doing it right under the Führer’s nose.”
“It’s not like we’re the only ones. Mustang has his Fullmetal pet. Not point in trying to count the number of times I’ve walked in on them…”
“Zolf, I don’t want to know. Go prep for your assessment.”
“You could…assess me.” Yet another leer.
“Go!”