Havoc/Mustang/Hawkeye smut for 30threesomes [# 7; Lovers]

Jan 02, 2006 00:17

Title: The Strongest Force
Author: galuxkitty
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Jean Havoc/Roy Mustang/Riza Hawkeye
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 4000
Warnings: Threesome, oral, masturbation, End of Series spoilers, PWP and smut, of course.
Disclaimer: If FMA was mine, Arakawa would be terrified.

For my lovely rukusho and hola_meg_a_cola, whom I love in a very erect way. XD



Twenty Hundred hours. The time Central Hospital closed the visitors, the last instance that family could come and pick up their injured relatives and take them home to a much more comforting place. Jean Havoc and Riza Hawkeye entered the building, their military-issues boots tapping softly against the bare, sterile floors of the brightly-lit corridor, the place very much deserted except for the lone, drowsy-looking nurse sitting at the service desk in the wing where Colonel Mustang had been placed.

“Excuse me?” Hawkeye inquired, leaning over the desk slightly farther than she meant, startling the nurse from her trance.

“Yes? May I help you? Visiting hours just concluded for the evening, so if you intend to visit someone I suggest you come back tomorrow at nine o’clock...”

“We’re sorry for the time,” Havoc interrupted, brushing his hand through the front of his hair with attempted flirtation that drew a slightly sarcastic gaze from his female companion, “But we got a phone call two hours ago that our Colonel, Roy Mustang was able to leave today, and we were on duty until nineteen- I mean, we were on duty until seven thirty.”

“I see,” the nurse frowned, consulting a list lying to her right, “It says here that he is able to leave, but we usually request that family members pick up patients...”

“He has no family in Central,” Hawkeye asserted, swiftly kicking Jean in the shin as she caught him once again brushing his hand through his messy blond hair, “And as we are his closest friends and he was severely injured, I doubt that it would be wise to let him travel home by himself.”

“Alright, but I’ll have to get both of you and Mister Mustang to sign a release form, signifying that you consent to being responsible for him after he leaves the hospital grounds,” the nurse recited in a plastic voice, as if the document was right in front of her for her to read from.

“That’s fine… Marie,” Havoc nods after squinting at the young woman’s nametag, once again ignoring the pointed look of sarcasm on Hawkeye’s face.

“Then just give me a minute to grab the forms,” the nurse chirruped, disappearing into the small room behind the desk. Once she was out of sight, Hawkeye spun on her heel to face Havoc, who was still grinning after Marie the nurse.

“Sometime I really think...” she hissed, but was cut off by Havoc placing his index finger against her lips.

“It’s not going to do much for the façade if I stop acting like I always do,” he murmured, taking his finger away and reaching for the packet of cigarettes in his front pocket when she closed her lips, “And besides, you know I would never do that. Heck, knowing my luck I wouldn’t even get an invitation to the party, so to speak.”

Jean lit his cigarette and took a long drag, giving Riza a lopsided grin that she couldn’t help returning.

“All the files are ready!” Marie said, returning from the storage room, “And Sir, I must ask you to please put out your cigarette when we go into the wards.”

Havoc sighed and complied with the request, dropping the smoke on the floor and carelessly scrunching it out with the tip of his boot.

They followed the nurse down the long hallway to Mustang’s room, waiting outside the doors of other patients when the nurse made sharp and random turns into their rooms to pull up their blankets, check their pulses with her fingers, pick up empty plates and cups left from their evening meals and place them on the stainless steel trays that were placed at random intervals at the corners where corridors met.

“So, are you two a couple?” the nurse inquired, obviously trying to make small talk to combat the silence set by the two officers.

“With all due respect, that’s quite a personal question,” Riza replied coldly.

“Well, we’re not a couple, per se,” Havoc started, but he was once again cut off by Riza’s sharp tongue.

“He just wishes we were,” she asserted, delighting in the light, embarrassed blush that made its way to Havoc’s face for a moment, then disappeared as rapidly as it has appeared. It wasn’t so much that it was true (even she couldn’t really imagine going back to being just a couple, as much as she surprised herself when she admitted it), but more the fact that she had succeeded in humiliating him.

When they reached Roy’s closed door (he could have only closed the door himself, because the nurses refused to do it in case of emergency, and this in itself amazed them because four weeks ago, Roy could barely walk) the nurse flung it open with great gusto and probably scared the Colonel half out of his skin.

“Good evening, Mister Mustang!” she sang, striding across the room to a thoroughly displeased-looking Roy, “I do believe Doctor Hilbert said you were able to go home this afternoon! Aren’t you lucky?”

On the contrary, Colonel Mustang looked like he was quite prepared to grab Marie’s neck and shake her violently.

“Now, he had all his stitches taken out this morning, but we re-bandaged some of the worse cuts on his arms and chest just to protect them from infection while the scars heal fully. He’ll have to keep putting the cream on his bedside table there on his eye for a while, until the skin gets used to the exposure, and he’ll have to keep the patch on for protection if he’s outside...”

“We’ll make sure of it,” Havoc answered, this time earning displeased looks from both of his co-workers.

“Okay then, Sir, if you would please sign these release forms?” she said, handing the piece of paper and a pen to Roy, who scrawled his name with such enthusiasm that he almost ripped a hole in the page. Riza and Jean both signed the form, and the nurse took it back and scrutinized it for a moment, before giving Roy permission to leave.

The dark-haired man swung his legs carefully over the edge of the bed, grabbing his cane for support and sliding his socked feet into the simple black slip-on shoes at the side of his bed.

“Are you sure you don’t want to get changed out of your pyjamas?” the nurse questioned, and Roy eyed her amusedly.

“Considering that you’re the one who was so insistent that I change into them, having said that it did indeed look like I was staying another night, I thought you would want me to wear them to my wedding day.”

Marie flushed awkwardly.

“That’s fine, then.”

“I should think so,” Roy replied with good nature, “Now, First Lieutenant Hawkeye and Second Lieutenant Havoc, please take me home.”

The two blonds grinned and snapped salutes, which he returned slowly. Then, he started walking towards the door, a great deal slower than what they were used to but a certain improvement from the last few weeks nonetheless.

The nurse turned to the right to tend to more patients once they had said their formal goodbyes, while they continued straight ahead and towards the exit.

“One more night in this place would have sent me mad,” Roy hissed under his breath, “Thank you for picking me up so late.”

“You thought for a minute that we’d leave you here longer than you needed to be?” his First Lieutenant questioned, smiling briefly.

“You two have a habit of being unnaturally cruel to me outside of the workplace.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it cruel,” Havoc grinned lazily, “But you can call it whatever you want; you’d still enjoy it.”

Mustang sniffed indignantly and adopted a slightly faster stride, and his two Lieutenants smiled at each other behind his back.

When they reached the glass entry door, Roy pushed it open and stepped aside to let them pass him first; a move that surprised them both, but one they accepted regardless. For some reason, the Colonel seemed almost humbled by their presence, and this was certainly not a side of him either of them got to experience with much regularity, not past when they were sure that no chain of command had to be followed. Hawkeye, always confident, stepped through the door and waited for Havoc to follow with her hand resting delicately on Roy’s shoulder. Havoc grabbed Roy’s other hand as he walked to catch up to the pair, and they walked to their car, the only one left in the lot and almost invisible in the darkness, with its matte black paint and tinted windows.

Hawkeye unlocked the driver’s side door with a set of numbered, tagged keys taken from her breast pocket, climbed into the car and then leaned across to flip the lock on the passenger’s side door. Havoc tugged the handle and let Roy ease himself down onto the comfortable leather seats of the car. Once Roy was seated, he leaned over and grabbed Riza’s chin, watched the acute spark of anticipation light up her eyes as he leaned in to kiss her, groaned as her tongue rose to meet his with warm, slick, familiar movements across his palate that he doubted he would tire of if the kiss continued on for all eternity.

Just as Roy’s moved of its own accord from Hawkeye’s chin to the nape of her neck, Havoc’s large, rough hands slid around Roy’s torso delicately; just forceful enough to make him aware of his presence but not agitate the remaining bruising on Mustang’s chest. Roy complied, broke away from Riza with one last nibble to the bottom lip and gave an appreciative little moan as Jean cupped his jawbone and guided him until their lips met. While Riza kissed with sensual confidence and surprising delicacy, Jean was rough, possessive and thorough, his tongue forcing its way past lips that had Roy closed simply to give the taller man reason to rise to the challenge.

Roy broke the kiss, desperately needing air, and Havoc and Hawkeye glanced at each once, smirked, and leaned over him to kiss each other, and he watched their jawlines work under the skin as the kiss progressed into passion.

“Oi, you two,” he grinned as they broke away from one another, “You’ve had enough time to have fun with one another while I was sick.”

“Wasn’t the same without you, Boss,” Havoc murmured huskily against Roy’s neck, having retreated in order to let Hawkeye start the car. The machine sprang to life after a few pointed twists of the ignition key, and Hawkeye smiled, her eyes fixed firmly on the road.

“Two is always better than one, Sir.”

The trio lapsed into silence then, and Mustang was content just to sit in between Riza and Jean and let the time until he was home tick by in comfortable quiet.

Once on a cold winter’s day that now seemed so long ago, Roy was resting between his two blond lovers and had inquired as to how he kissed. His First Lieutenant had rolled over and placed a kiss on the shell of his ear, and his Second Lieutenant’s fingers had shifted lazily against his naked belly as he had leaned up to answer. In the end, their response had been the same: “You Tease”.

He must have dozed off after that because the next thing he knew, Hawkeye was shaking him awake gently, whispering in his ear that he was home.

“Come on, Chief. You’re almost there,” Havoc muttered, offering his superior officer his left hand while fumbling for his cigarettes with his right. Mustang accepted the offered hand and Havoc pulled the smaller man to his feet easily, and then got back to digging through his pockets for his lighter. He found it, stuck the cigarette between his lips and lit up; exhaling slowly like the tobacco was his lifeblood. Hawkeye stood directly behind the Colonel, as if she was afraid he would topple over backwards.

His apartment was up five levels of stairs, and he could usually climb them all with no problem, as most people could. However, now he wasn’t so sure; it had been a while since he’d done any exercise past walking to the bathroom or the door of his room, or standing in the small garden in the courtyard of the hospital... after chirpy nurses had dragged him there, of course. Jean and Riza followed him up the stairs, never complaining about his slow, cautious pace until he finally stopped, one flight of stairs from his apartment.

“Let me rest for a moment,” he said, showing no signs of tiring beforehand but simply stopping when he felt his body begin to ache.

“I have a better idea,” Havoc smirked. He stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete wall of the stairwell, and scooped Roy up in his arms, earning a light chuckle from Hawkeye.

“What the Hell are you doing, Havoc?” Roy snapped, fighting the heat rising to his cheeks.

“Assisting you, Sir. Myself and Lieutenant Hawkeye are rather impatient to get to the task at hand.”

“What if someone sees,” Roy hissed, trying to ignore the light squeeze of Havoc’s hand on his ass and Hawkeye’s finely boned fingers on his neck, sliding under the collar of his pyjama top.

“They’ll only see if you keep complaining, Sir,” Riza replied, her index finger finding one of the raw scars on his collarbone and tracing it delicately. Her hand then dived into her own pocket and withdrew a simple silver key; no distinguishing marks, no brand engraved into it... they had decided this at the start of the relationship.

Roy’s apartment was as simple and as messy as the day he left it; the only difference was that even more dust had settled upon his simple table, all the old alchemy notes on his desk, and on the dark blue bedspread he had tossed haphazardly over his stained sheets. Jean placed Roy on the bed and squirmed away from the hands that tried to pull him down.

“No, Sir. You need rest,” Havoc smirked, standing up to return to Riza, who was standing at the foot of the bed, “We, on the other hand…”

Jean never got to finish, because Riza grabbed him by the lapels and drew him towards her. Their lips met and Riza gave a soft whimper as Havoc broke the kiss and nibbled on her bottom lip and moved to unbutton her uniform jacket.

“Very cruel,” Roy grumbled as he watched Havoc toss Riza’s jacket towards the small wooden table and cup her breast through her tight black shirt, “I’m sick and you still torture me like this.”

The blond man fingered the hem of her shirt and then rolled it up slowly, exposing her bare, pale breast as she started to work on his jacket. Jean’s thumb rolled across her swollen nipple and Riza gave a breathy moan that Roy felt his body respond to almost immediately. Havoc paused for a moment to pull Riza’s shirt over her head and toss it away, and she did the same to him moments later, tossing both his jacket and his black undershirt behind her lazily. Hawkeye’s pants were next apparently, and Havoc hooked his thumb under the waistband of the starched blue material and pulled both them and her underwear down in one swift movement. Riza watched him, smiling quite wickedly as he left kisses up the inside of her thigh.

“Wait, Jean.”

Havoc blinked and looked up at her, and stood when she gestured for him to do so. Roy remained splayed across on his own bed, breathing slightly shallow from just watching the pair pleasure each other. Riza leaned in and whispered in Jean’s ear, and he watched his lover’s eyes flicker from Riza to himself with an attentive gaze. He nodded slowly in agreement to Riza’s apparent plan of attack, and then stepped aside to let her walk towards the bed, her hips swaying delicately.

“Don’t worry, Sir. We hadn’t forgotten about you,” Riza whispered, getting onto the bed and crawling over him on all fours. She paused momentarily to pull his pyjama pants down over his slim waist, and smiled when he gave a plaintive little noise and jerked his hips upwards impatiently.

“Sorry Colonel, that’s not my point of call tonight,” Riza smirked, before moving upwards even further until she was perched on his chest.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” she said, shifting against his chest, trying to find just the right way to sit to make both herself and Roy as comfortable as possible. Roy hissed slightly at first; her fragile weight making his fading bruises ache in weak protest, his scars pulling uncomfortably but certainly not reopening. Once Riza had stopped shifting and repositioning herself, Roy bit his lip to suppress a moan at the warm, slick wetness that was now positioned delicious and firm on his chest. He craned his neck just in time to see Riza caress her left breast slowly, and as he tried to lean up and place a kiss on her sternum, he realized one important thing he had neglected to notice before.

“Hawkeye?” he murmured, tonguing her areola just enough to make her growl in the back of her throat.

“Mmm... what is it?”

“Can you please move a little? I can’t see what Jean...”

And then suddenly, it became very clear why she was sitting so close to him, blocking his view, and realization of what Havoc was doing dawned upon him very rapidly.

He felt Havoc’s rough fingertips on the inside of his thigh for the briefest of moments, before his Second Lieutenant’s moist lips closed around the head of his cock. Roy lurched forward at the sensation and was met by Hawkeye’s lips, warm and firm and thorough against his mouth, his jaw, his neck. Roy broke away, short of breath and moaned loudly as Havoc’s tongue traced a confident line from base to crown, lapping and nipping and then soothing him again when his hips rose to meet Jean’s mouth. Roy lay tensely on his pillows, staring up at the blonde woman on his chest. She smiled, and her hand brushed lightly over her own breastbone before she pinched her nipple between her thumb and forefinger, moaning generously and Roy felt his dick twitch in response, drawing a pleased little purr from Jean as he continued to suck delicately, practically encouraging Roy’s hips to rise to meet him.

Riza’s hand continued downward, and Roy somehow thought that his one good eye must now be sharp enough for two as he watched gooseflesh rise on her stomach in reaction to her own feather light caress. Her hand continued down until it was nestled between her legs; their eyes locked then, and she gave a slow grin and pressed her fingertips into her clit, hips jerking forward sharply and he felt it as he felt her slickness smear across his chest.

“Jean!” Roy’s voice was broken by another moan as he watched Hawkeye shift until she was kneeling above and slide her fingers inside of herself, but Havoc knew what he wanted and rose in one fluid motion, propping himself up on his elbows and breathing through his nose carefully as Roy’s hips jerked forward desperately, his cock moving in and out of his throat with reckless abandon. Roy gripped Riza’s wrist and pulled her hand away from her cunt, placed her moist fingers against his lips and replaced her hand with his own, his skilled fingers sliding in and out of her with ease. Once, a dull part of his brain reflected as Havoc sensed he was near climax and began to suck greedily in time with Mustang’s thrusts, he had mentioned that Havoc’s gag reflex must have depleted the more he smoked. That had earned him a sharp nip to the neck that had welled into a dark violet bruise, and many a question on who had given him the mark the next day at work. Suddenly, work seemed so far away, so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. They were Riza and Jean, not First Lieutenant Hawkeye and Second Lieutenant Havoc. It didn’t matter that Riza was sucking on his neck hard enough to leave a mark as her muscles clenched wildly around his fingers, or that he was yelling so loud he was hoarse as Jean gave one last languid suck and murmured with pleasure as he claimed his release, his hips still rocking weakly. It didn’t matter that a representative from the Military Courts have come in to visit him half an hour before his lovers had arrived and told him that his court date was a month away. They were together, they were alive and that was certainly what mattered to him above all other things.

Roy breathed deep as Riza slid off his chest and to his right side, and Havoc released his cock and moved up to sit next to him on the left. Roy eyed the taller man; erection straining against military pants that were now thoroughly stained, eyes darting around, trying to find where Hawkeye had thrown the jacket that housed his smokes and matches.

Riza’s small warm hand rested against his forearm and Roy knew they were thinking the same thing.

“Jean,” he hissed, fingers tracing the line of his femur. Havoc jumped and looked over his shoulder, blue eyes full of curiosity.

“Lie down,” Roy offered, slowly shifting until he was sitting, freeing the bed for Havoc, who obliged without a moment’s hesitation, and he was once again reminded of work.

Riza slid his slacks down his legs and discarded them thoughtlessly, and Havoc was left in just his underwear, mildly apprehensive under Roy’s dark, hungry gaze. The dark-haired man eased himself down slowly and encased Havoc’s head through the plain cotton of his underwear, humming with pleasure as he reacted to the caress of Roy’s tongue. Roy was just starting to remember the smooth texture of Jean’s cock on his tongue and the clean, sharp taste when Riza told him to move.

“Sir, let me,” she rasped, scrutinizing the Second Lieutenant before swiftly depriving him of his underwear and grasping his dick in her hand. Roy felt his breathing become shallow as Havoc groaned, hips jerking forward shamelessly and with none of the gentlemanly care Roy had taken before.

Mustang moved slowly, crawling up to the head of the bed to lean down and flick his tongue inside Havoc’s parted lips, and the blond reacted hard and fast, tongue darting out of his mouth to meet the Colonel’s halfway. Havoc broke away and moaned a poor semblance of Riza’s name as she stroked his erection aggravatingly slowly. Roy moved down Havoc’s finely haired chest, worried a nipple with tooth and tongue and listened as he groaned and Riza gave a soft exclamation as she brushed her thumb across his slit and he came into her hand.

“Still don’t have any endurance Jean?” Roy’s deep, amused tenor broke the near-silence as Riza offered the smaller man her hand and he licked between her slim fingers, tasting Jean and running the tip of his tongue along the webbing of her fingers, tracing the lines of tendons under her skin. Havoc grinned lazily and batted playfully at his forearm as Riza leaned over to kiss Roy, slow and deep. Havoc dug around in the discarded uniforms until he found his cigarettes and then returned to the bed on which Riza and Roy were sitting, lighting up and blowing the smoke away from them as he exhaled.

And Roy lay contently between his two subordinates in a tangle of warm, bare, perspiring limbs and knew that in between his work and his alchemy, his ambition and his ‘betrayal’, the strongest force would lie in wait until the safety of night, but would never grow lax nor wane.

END

I'm proud of this one, I must say. :D Hope you liked it, too!

pairing: mustang/hawkeye/havoc, character: roy mustang, fandom: fullmetal alchemist, character: jean havoc, character: riza hawkeye, community: 30threesomes

Previous post Next post
Up