Full Metal Alchemist, "What Goes Around," Roy/Jean, NC-17
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, chrstphrl!!!
This is for you, inspired by your absolutely gorgeous piece "Backseat." I hope you enjoy it, and have a wonderful birthday. ♥♥♥
What Goes Around
by Mistr3ss Quickly
"Snowing again," said Heymans, his eyes half-lidded with unspeakable boredom, the stack of paperwork in front of him dwindled to only four or five forms, three minutes before the big clock hanging on the wall above the coffee-maker chimed noon, announcing lunch-break. "Don't remember it snowing this much, last year."
"You were in East City, last year," said Jean, chewing on the end of his toothpick. "Doesn't snow there, not like this. Few flakes in the air, maybe, but mostly rain."
Heymans sighed. "I don't like snow," he said.
"Last year, you said you didn't like rain," said Jean.
"I didn't like rain," said Heymans. "Still don't. Don't like snow, either."
Jean snorted. "You like to whine," he said.
"And your point is ...?"
"You whine a lot," said Jean.
Heymans gave him a pat on the back of the hand and a sarcastically sweet smile. "Just because I've got you to listen to my troubles, dear," he said.
"Don't do that," said Jean.
"Do what?" said Heymans.
"My mom's voice," said Jean. "It's creepy."
"I'll tell her you said that," said Heymans.
Jean frowned. "That's out of context," he said.
Heymans waved his hand dismissively. "Too hungry to care, Havo," he said. "Gonna go catch some lunch."
"No, you're not," said Jean under his breath, watching Lieutenant Hawkeye rise and make her way over to them, looking cool and officious as ever. He smiled at her, the very best smile he could conjure. "Snowing again," he said. "I'm going to go get the Colonel's car, pull it around so he doesn't have to walk around outside too much, going for lunch."
Hawkeye arched one slender eyebrow at him. Jean offered her his best grin.
"Very well," she said. "Lieutenant Breda, please see to it that those forms are filed in their appropriate places before you leave for your lunch."
Jean didn't need to look at his friend to see the look of horror on the man's face, but he did anyway. Grin broadening, he patted Heymans on the shoulder, then saluted Hawkeye and marched out of the room, cigarette dangling from his mouth even before he'd gotten his overcoat buttoned.
Whatever Heymans did to get back at him, he figured it would be worth it.
~♥~♥~♥~
Roy Mustang was, as Jean had learnt quite on accident half a year before, not a very large man, his build significantly smaller than Jean's, light and quick and flexible where Jean was long and muscular and sturdy.
But even at that, the impact of Roy Mustang's body, crashing against Jean's at full speed, was enough to send the younger man stumbling back a few steps, wincing for an instant before concern for his lover took over, Roy's body crumpled against him, eyes dark and unfocused.
Totally dazed.
"Hey, Boss," said Jean, kneeling and cupping Roy's cheek in his palm. "You okay? What's going on? Someone after you?"
Roy shook himself and cleared his throat, then (with Jean's help) stood and dusted off his uniform with a smart brush of his gloved hands.
"Lieutenant Havoc," he said. "How fortunate, running into you here. I was just looking for you."
Code for: Save me, Hawkeye's after my hide again.
Jean grinned and tucked his cigarette behind his ear. "I was just on my way to the Motor Pool to get your ride, Sir," he said. "Would you like to come with me? Kind of defeats the purpose of my trip and all, but-"
"Ah, that's a wonderful idea, Lieutenant, I would certainly love to accompany you," said Roy, clapping Jean on the back. He sunk his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat, falling into step with Jean, the tap-tap-tap of their boots echoing loudly in the empty hallway. "Nothing to clear one's mind after a long morning of hard work like a refreshing walk outdoors, hmm?"
"If you say so, Sir," said Jean. He looked at Roy out of the corner of his eye, then cleared his throat. "Snowing again, out there. Has been for about an hour, I'd say."
Impossible though it might have been, Jean could have sworn he heard Roy's heart sink, at that tidbit of news.
"Oh," said Roy. "It is?"
"Yes, sir," said Jean. Then, in a lower tone, he added, "You sleep in the conference room a bit longer than you meant to?"
Roy cleared his throat. "I had a long night last night," he said, quietly. "I'm sure you're well aware of what I'm talking about."
Jean felt his face heat. "Yes, sir," he said.
They walked along in silence, then, through the double doors at the end of the hall, then down-down-down to the basement level of Headquarters, out into the swirling snow and bland monotony of wintertime. Roy shivered and glared at the weather, moving closer to Jean as they trudged along the snow-dusted sidewalks, towards the Motor Pool.
"Damnable weather," he growled. "I'd forgotten about winter in Central."
Jean sighed. "It rained in East City," he reminded his shivering lover.
Roy whined. "That doesn't make winter in Central any more pleasant," he said.
"No," said Jean, "I suppose it doesn't."
Roy shivered and didn't answer him.
Jean glanced about, wanting desperately to put his arm around his lover, to warm the man in any way he could, but there were too many potential witnesses, men and women hurrying about, huddled up in their uniforms and winter coats, for him to do much more than murmur "not much further." When Roy made a sound that began as a derisive snort, but ended as a whimper, Jean frowned and began unwinding his own scarf from about his neck, ignoring Roy's half-hearted protests and wrapping it around the man's neck, warm and snug.
"It's just a scarf, Roy," he said, quietly.
Roy drew a deep breath. "Smells like perfume," he said.
Jean blushed. "My mom made it for me," he said. "That's potpourri you're smelling, she's got that stuff all over the house."
"Ah," said Roy. He retreated into the warmth of the scarf, not unlike a turtle lurking inside its shell, and sighed. "It's nice. Purple, but nice."
They walked along in silence, Jean holding the door for his lover once they reached the Motor Pool, Roy's body brushing against his as the man walked past. Then he hurried inside as well, unlocking the back passenger-side door of the Colonel's car, standing by as Roy argued his greatcoat and uniform tails into the car, his snow-damp trousers squeaking a little against the leather seat of the car.
"Jean."
"Yeah, Roy?"
Roy motioned with his hand. "C'mere a second."
Jean obediently crouched down, grunting in surprise when Roy's beckoning hand grabbed him and tugged, pulling him into the car as well.
"Boss, what're you-"
"I'm cold, and where your scarf is very nice, I'd rather have you warm me up," said Roy, as though he were stating the obvious and Jean were slow on the uptake. "Now. Warm me up."
Jean chuckled and tugged his own coat and uniform tails into the backseat, then closed the door and opened his arms, pulling Roy close and resting his chin on top of the man's head. "Warmer?" he said.
"Mmm," said Roy.
"Don't tell me this is just an excuse for you to go back to napping, Roy," said Jean, giving the man a little shake. "You can nap just as well in the conference room after lunch, if that's the case."
Roy sighed. "Not napping," he said. "Getting warm."
"Okay, Boss," said Jean. "You let me know when I can drive you home and warm you up someplace other than a cold car."
"M'kay," said Roy, snuggling closer.
To Jean's surprise, the space between himself and his commanding officer began quickly to warm, Roy's smaller body tucked close against his own, curled up almost like a kitten, save that Roy could never look so sweet an innocent as a kitten, Jean thought with a chuckle. The windows in the car were starting to steam, fogging easily from their breath and body heat in the utter chill, even inside the motor pool. He pressed a kiss to Roy's snow-damp hair, then rested his cheek against the top of the man's head, vaguely remembering his mother telling him, as a child, something about losing body-heat through the top of his head. Wouldn't do for Roy to be any less warm than he could be, especially not if something so simple as-
"Good afternoon, General," said a voice just outside the vehicle, a uniform-blue back pressed to the window only a second later. "Horrible weather, isn't it?"
Heart thumping, Jean roused his lover. "Boss," he whispered, "wake up."
"'M not asleep," slurred Roy, burrowing closer to Jean's strong chest.
"Roy," whispered Jean, more urgently. "Wake up, this looks bad, what we're doing."
His lover moved only enough to glare up at him. "We're not 'doing' anything, Jean, and besides, that's Sergeant Fury's voice, is it not?" he said. "We're covered."
And, of course, he was correct. They heard the little sergeant laughing softly, offering to pass on a message to another Colonel, his back moving from the steam-fogged window of Colonel Mustang's car only enough for him to bow, wishing the officers to whom he'd been speaking goodbye. Then, once all witnesses had gone, he rapped his knuckles once on the window-glass and walked away, leaving nothing but the empty silence of the motor pool in his wake.
Jean let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank God," he said.
Roy smirked. "I'll see that He gets the message," he said.
~♥~♥~♥~
They were twenty minutes late back to the office from lunch, but as Jean came in right behind Roy, he was spared Hawkeye's lecture, slinking around under her disapproving glare for only a few minutes before her attention was drawn to her commanding officer, Roy's loud yawning earning him an even more disapproving glare than she'd given Jean, accompanied by a stack of papers and the click of fingernails against the butt of her pistol.
Roy didn't argue. He hunched over his desk and began signing.
Chuckling, Jean settled at the big table and slipped a toothpick between his teeth, picking up his pen. Either Riza had gone to lunch late, or else she'd been busy in the twenty minutes between the end of lunchtime and his return, because a new stack of forms was sitting at his place, waiting for him, tall enough that it would be no small miracle for him to finish all of them before quitting time.
He found that he didn't really mind. His belly was full of good food-sandwich and soup from the small diner on the other side of the city from Headquarters-and his body was warm, tingling still from Roy's teasing touches to his thigh, all the way back to the motor pool. He filled out the form in front of him without giving it much thought, cock twitching a little at the thought of Roy's whispered promises of what they would do, once off duty for the evening.
Can't believe he suggested actually doing some of that stuff, right there in the motor pool, he thought, reaching for another form to fill out. Bad enough we almost got caught just sitting in the car together earlier, can't imagine what they'd think if we were actually ... doing stuff. Even if it were just Cain, again, catching us, that'd be-waitaminute, where's the little guy and his big oaf? Roy and I were late getting back as it was, they're not usually later than we are.
He frowned at his best friend's empty chair and Sergeant Fury's empty chair, just beside it.
They're gonna get into trouble if they're fucking in the men's room again. Just dumb luck that they haven't gotten caught yet. He sighed and set down his pen. Better me bustin' 'em than somebody else, I guess. I'll tell Roy I'm going, he'll understand.
"Hey Boss?"
Roy looked up from his work. He looked haggard already. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"I'm going to go on an errand, see about some lost dogs from the pack," he said. He could hear Riza's fingernails against the butt of her gun, once again, and comforted himself with the notion that her annoyance was more likely aimed at his missing comrades than at him.
He hoped it was, anyway.
His lover nodded. "Very well," he said. "Don't get lost on the way."
Jean saluted. "Yes, Sir," he said.
Then he turned and marched out of the room.
~♥~♥~♥~
By the time he returned-his search for his friend in three of the closest restrooms and one broom closet having proved fruitless, and his search of satisfaction for his nicotine craving having proved wildly successful-Lieutenant Breda and Sergeant Fury were seated at the big table, Heymans' back bent in an odd stoop and Cain's cheeks glowing a telltale red.
Jean glared at them. "Where have you two been?" he said. "Mustang's been looking for you."
"Uhm ... we ..."
Jean crossed his arms over his chest, watching Heymans struggle for an answer. It was no secret amongst the three of them that Jean knew full well about his best friend's relationship with the little sergeant, but still, he took it upon himself to tease both of them-Heymans more mercilessly than Cain, because he knew the older man could take it-every time he caught them being more than comrades-in-arms.
"I asked Lieutenant Breda to help me check the wiring in the General's car," said Cain, smoothly, giving Heymans a small wink that Jean didn't miss. "We're going to add a field telephone."
"Oh? Really?" said Jean, distracted from his task of teasing his friends by honest surprise. "Wow, what will they think of next?" He grinned at the look of relief passing over Cain's face and scratched the back of his neck, where Roy had bitten him, just before they'd entered Headquarters for the afternoon. "Mustang will love that. He'll be able to feel even more superior."
Cain smiled, deceptively innocent. "Most likely," he said.
Jean shook his head and settled in his chair, letting the subject drop as he picked up his pen and reached for another form. After all, he owed Cain for coming to his rescue, earlier.
Just have to wait 'til I've got Heymans alone to do my teasing, he thought, filling out the date at the top of the form.
Secretly, he hoped the grin he could feel spreading across his face made his best friend uneasy, even if only a little.
~♥~♥~♥~
"You certainly took long enough, finishing your work."
Jean snorted and tugged the collar of his greatcoat up, shielding his ears from the whipping wind. The snow had stopped, finally, but the temperature had plummeted since sunset, making the walk from Headquarters to the motor pool even more uncomfortable than it had been at lunchtime.
"Not my fault I got back to the office late, Boss," he grumbled, glaring sidelong at the man walking beside him, warm in the borrowed scarf wrapped around his neck. "And you're my commanding officer, you know, you could've ordered me to leave my work until tomorrow morning."
"And listen to Riza's lecture for a week? No thank you," said Roy. "Besides, you must have been going slowly, Lieutenant Breda was later returning to work after lunch than we were, and he still managed to finish his work on time."
"He probably just put some of his work into my stack," said Jean.
"Then you should be more observant and prevent that from happening again," said Roy.
Jean rolled his eyes. "Can't do that, Boss, unless you stop calling me into your office for 'private conferences' ever hour."
He could hear Roy chuckling and knew without checking that his lover didn't plan to change his ways, not one bit.
The motor pool was empty, by the time they arrived, the sound of Jean opening the back door for his lover echoing loudly amongst the other vehicles parked around theirs. Shivering, the tall blonde slid into the front seat and started the car, glancing in the rearview mirror at his lover, torn between amusement and pity at the sight of the smaller man shivering, hunched up like an annoyed kitten in his greatcoat.
"Bear with it, Roy, we'll be home soon enough," he said, gently, putting the car in reverse. He hesitated before backing out, however, reaching down to adjust his seat, which was pushed too far forward, farther forward than he'd had it when they'd driven to lunch together, just a few hours before.
That's weird, he thought. Didn't think anyone else used this car but Roy, and he certainly didn't use it this afternoon, I'd have noticed if he'd left.
Roy growled softly from the back seat. "Jean," he said, "what in the name of lost body heat and hypothermia are you doing?"
Jean shook his head and took his foot off the brake. "Nothing, Boss," he said. "Sorry."
They passed the drive to Roy's apartment in silence, the car's heater warming up just as Jean pulled up to the curb and switched off the ignition, dropping the keys into his pocket as Roy slid out of the car, looking cold and grumpy. He grunted when Jean draped an arm around his shoulders, but didn't shrug it off, shivering faintly in his lover's embrace as he unlocked his front door. Once inside, he pushed the door closed and opened his mouth to complain about the weather, but Jean's mouth covered his, muffling his words, so he quieted and let Jean kiss him, deep and hot, protesting when the younger man pulled away.
"I know you're cold, Boss, but I can make you warmer more quickly if you take off your coat and stuff," said Jean, looking honestly apologetic as he reached out to unbutton Roy's greatcoat, the borrowed scarf falling to the floor like a flightless bird.
"Very well, I trust you," said Roy, smirking.
And he did. He trusted Jean's big hands, pushing him down onto the cold sheets of his bed, then blindly pushing his legs apart, once they were both snuggled under the blankets. He trusted Jean's murmurs of not yet, Boss, you're not ready yet when he was panting and growling for Jean to stop teasing him and fuck him. And when Jean misjudged and accidentally made him come, sucking him to distract him from the pain of being stretched, he chuckled and trusted that Jean would still make it worth his while, gently ordering the blonde to go ahead and finish inside him.
"If you're sure," said Jean, hesitating only a moment before obediently pushing inside Roy's body, slow and steady.
Roy all but purred. "I'm quite sure," he said.
He closed his eyes while Jean fucked him, rocked his hips only a little into each hard thrust of Jean's hips. Above him, Jean was breathing hard, panting breath growing louder until he was moaning and trembling and rutting deep, a rhythm Roy knew well. He opened his eyes when he heard Jean's voice crack, watched the man throw his head back as he came, flushed with arousal and exertion. His own cock twitched a little at the sight, softening again at the discomfort of Jean sliding out of him.
"Sorry."
Roy chuckled and closed his eyes again, stretching a little as Jean began cleaning both of them of lubricant. "Hush, Jean," he said. "I'm much warmer now."
He could almost hear Jean's smile, big and lopsided and wide enough to show the man's teeth.
"Good, Boss," said Jean. "I'm glad to hear that. Want to shower, or just sleep?"
"Mmm, sleep," said Roy. "Just for now."
Jean chuckled and slid under the covers, spooning around Roy's back when the man presented him with it. Warm and sated and ridiculously happy, he drifted to sleep.
~♥~♥~♥~
At two A.M., he sat bolt upright from a dead sleep. "Holy shit!" he growled, the cold weather and his best friend's tardiness and Cain's quiet smile and the oddly adjusted car seat all coming together in his mind, making his blood boil. "I’m gonna kill 'em."
Beside him, his lover chuckled. "As you were, Jean," he mumbled into his pillow. "As you were."
Jean grumbled something unpleasant, but obeyed, holding Roy possessively tight until sleep claimed him, once again.
Revenge could wait until the morning, after all.
This is for you, inspired by your absolutely gorgeous piece "Backseat." I hope you enjoy it, and have a wonderful birthday. ♥♥♥
What Goes Around
by Mistr3ss Quickly
"Snowing again," said Heymans, his eyes half-lidded with unspeakable boredom, the stack of paperwork in front of him dwindled to only four or five forms, three minutes before the big clock hanging on the wall above the coffee-maker chimed noon, announcing lunch-break. "Don't remember it snowing this much, last year."
"You were in East City, last year," said Jean, chewing on the end of his toothpick. "Doesn't snow there, not like this. Few flakes in the air, maybe, but mostly rain."
Heymans sighed. "I don't like snow," he said.
"Last year, you said you didn't like rain," said Jean.
"I didn't like rain," said Heymans. "Still don't. Don't like snow, either."
Jean snorted. "You like to whine," he said.
"And your point is ...?"
"You whine a lot," said Jean.
Heymans gave him a pat on the back of the hand and a sarcastically sweet smile. "Just because I've got you to listen to my troubles, dear," he said.
"Don't do that," said Jean.
"Do what?" said Heymans.
"My mom's voice," said Jean. "It's creepy."
"I'll tell her you said that," said Heymans.
Jean frowned. "That's out of context," he said.
Heymans waved his hand dismissively. "Too hungry to care, Havo," he said. "Gonna go catch some lunch."
"No, you're not," said Jean under his breath, watching Lieutenant Hawkeye rise and make her way over to them, looking cool and officious as ever. He smiled at her, the very best smile he could conjure. "Snowing again," he said. "I'm going to go get the Colonel's car, pull it around so he doesn't have to walk around outside too much, going for lunch."
Hawkeye arched one slender eyebrow at him. Jean offered her his best grin.
"Very well," she said. "Lieutenant Breda, please see to it that those forms are filed in their appropriate places before you leave for your lunch."
Jean didn't need to look at his friend to see the look of horror on the man's face, but he did anyway. Grin broadening, he patted Heymans on the shoulder, then saluted Hawkeye and marched out of the room, cigarette dangling from his mouth even before he'd gotten his overcoat buttoned.
Whatever Heymans did to get back at him, he figured it would be worth it.
~♥~♥~♥~
Roy Mustang was, as Jean had learnt quite on accident half a year before, not a very large man, his build significantly smaller than Jean's, light and quick and flexible where Jean was long and muscular and sturdy.
But even at that, the impact of Roy Mustang's body, crashing against Jean's at full speed, was enough to send the younger man stumbling back a few steps, wincing for an instant before concern for his lover took over, Roy's body crumpled against him, eyes dark and unfocused.
Totally dazed.
"Hey, Boss," said Jean, kneeling and cupping Roy's cheek in his palm. "You okay? What's going on? Someone after you?"
Roy shook himself and cleared his throat, then (with Jean's help) stood and dusted off his uniform with a smart brush of his gloved hands.
"Lieutenant Havoc," he said. "How fortunate, running into you here. I was just looking for you."
Code for: Save me, Hawkeye's after my hide again.
Jean grinned and tucked his cigarette behind his ear. "I was just on my way to the Motor Pool to get your ride, Sir," he said. "Would you like to come with me? Kind of defeats the purpose of my trip and all, but-"
"Ah, that's a wonderful idea, Lieutenant, I would certainly love to accompany you," said Roy, clapping Jean on the back. He sunk his hands into the pockets of his greatcoat, falling into step with Jean, the tap-tap-tap of their boots echoing loudly in the empty hallway. "Nothing to clear one's mind after a long morning of hard work like a refreshing walk outdoors, hmm?"
"If you say so, Sir," said Jean. He looked at Roy out of the corner of his eye, then cleared his throat. "Snowing again, out there. Has been for about an hour, I'd say."
Impossible though it might have been, Jean could have sworn he heard Roy's heart sink, at that tidbit of news.
"Oh," said Roy. "It is?"
"Yes, sir," said Jean. Then, in a lower tone, he added, "You sleep in the conference room a bit longer than you meant to?"
Roy cleared his throat. "I had a long night last night," he said, quietly. "I'm sure you're well aware of what I'm talking about."
Jean felt his face heat. "Yes, sir," he said.
They walked along in silence, then, through the double doors at the end of the hall, then down-down-down to the basement level of Headquarters, out into the swirling snow and bland monotony of wintertime. Roy shivered and glared at the weather, moving closer to Jean as they trudged along the snow-dusted sidewalks, towards the Motor Pool.
"Damnable weather," he growled. "I'd forgotten about winter in Central."
Jean sighed. "It rained in East City," he reminded his shivering lover.
Roy whined. "That doesn't make winter in Central any more pleasant," he said.
"No," said Jean, "I suppose it doesn't."
Roy shivered and didn't answer him.
Jean glanced about, wanting desperately to put his arm around his lover, to warm the man in any way he could, but there were too many potential witnesses, men and women hurrying about, huddled up in their uniforms and winter coats, for him to do much more than murmur "not much further." When Roy made a sound that began as a derisive snort, but ended as a whimper, Jean frowned and began unwinding his own scarf from about his neck, ignoring Roy's half-hearted protests and wrapping it around the man's neck, warm and snug.
"It's just a scarf, Roy," he said, quietly.
Roy drew a deep breath. "Smells like perfume," he said.
Jean blushed. "My mom made it for me," he said. "That's potpourri you're smelling, she's got that stuff all over the house."
"Ah," said Roy. He retreated into the warmth of the scarf, not unlike a turtle lurking inside its shell, and sighed. "It's nice. Purple, but nice."
They walked along in silence, Jean holding the door for his lover once they reached the Motor Pool, Roy's body brushing against his as the man walked past. Then he hurried inside as well, unlocking the back passenger-side door of the Colonel's car, standing by as Roy argued his greatcoat and uniform tails into the car, his snow-damp trousers squeaking a little against the leather seat of the car.
"Jean."
"Yeah, Roy?"
Roy motioned with his hand. "C'mere a second."
Jean obediently crouched down, grunting in surprise when Roy's beckoning hand grabbed him and tugged, pulling him into the car as well.
"Boss, what're you-"
"I'm cold, and where your scarf is very nice, I'd rather have you warm me up," said Roy, as though he were stating the obvious and Jean were slow on the uptake. "Now. Warm me up."
Jean chuckled and tugged his own coat and uniform tails into the backseat, then closed the door and opened his arms, pulling Roy close and resting his chin on top of the man's head. "Warmer?" he said.
"Mmm," said Roy.
"Don't tell me this is just an excuse for you to go back to napping, Roy," said Jean, giving the man a little shake. "You can nap just as well in the conference room after lunch, if that's the case."
Roy sighed. "Not napping," he said. "Getting warm."
"Okay, Boss," said Jean. "You let me know when I can drive you home and warm you up someplace other than a cold car."
"M'kay," said Roy, snuggling closer.
To Jean's surprise, the space between himself and his commanding officer began quickly to warm, Roy's smaller body tucked close against his own, curled up almost like a kitten, save that Roy could never look so sweet an innocent as a kitten, Jean thought with a chuckle. The windows in the car were starting to steam, fogging easily from their breath and body heat in the utter chill, even inside the motor pool. He pressed a kiss to Roy's snow-damp hair, then rested his cheek against the top of the man's head, vaguely remembering his mother telling him, as a child, something about losing body-heat through the top of his head. Wouldn't do for Roy to be any less warm than he could be, especially not if something so simple as-
"Good afternoon, General," said a voice just outside the vehicle, a uniform-blue back pressed to the window only a second later. "Horrible weather, isn't it?"
Heart thumping, Jean roused his lover. "Boss," he whispered, "wake up."
"'M not asleep," slurred Roy, burrowing closer to Jean's strong chest.
"Roy," whispered Jean, more urgently. "Wake up, this looks bad, what we're doing."
His lover moved only enough to glare up at him. "We're not 'doing' anything, Jean, and besides, that's Sergeant Fury's voice, is it not?" he said. "We're covered."
And, of course, he was correct. They heard the little sergeant laughing softly, offering to pass on a message to another Colonel, his back moving from the steam-fogged window of Colonel Mustang's car only enough for him to bow, wishing the officers to whom he'd been speaking goodbye. Then, once all witnesses had gone, he rapped his knuckles once on the window-glass and walked away, leaving nothing but the empty silence of the motor pool in his wake.
Jean let out the breath he'd been holding. "Thank God," he said.
Roy smirked. "I'll see that He gets the message," he said.
~♥~♥~♥~
They were twenty minutes late back to the office from lunch, but as Jean came in right behind Roy, he was spared Hawkeye's lecture, slinking around under her disapproving glare for only a few minutes before her attention was drawn to her commanding officer, Roy's loud yawning earning him an even more disapproving glare than she'd given Jean, accompanied by a stack of papers and the click of fingernails against the butt of her pistol.
Roy didn't argue. He hunched over his desk and began signing.
Chuckling, Jean settled at the big table and slipped a toothpick between his teeth, picking up his pen. Either Riza had gone to lunch late, or else she'd been busy in the twenty minutes between the end of lunchtime and his return, because a new stack of forms was sitting at his place, waiting for him, tall enough that it would be no small miracle for him to finish all of them before quitting time.
He found that he didn't really mind. His belly was full of good food-sandwich and soup from the small diner on the other side of the city from Headquarters-and his body was warm, tingling still from Roy's teasing touches to his thigh, all the way back to the motor pool. He filled out the form in front of him without giving it much thought, cock twitching a little at the thought of Roy's whispered promises of what they would do, once off duty for the evening.
Can't believe he suggested actually doing some of that stuff, right there in the motor pool, he thought, reaching for another form to fill out. Bad enough we almost got caught just sitting in the car together earlier, can't imagine what they'd think if we were actually ... doing stuff. Even if it were just Cain, again, catching us, that'd be-waitaminute, where's the little guy and his big oaf? Roy and I were late getting back as it was, they're not usually later than we are.
He frowned at his best friend's empty chair and Sergeant Fury's empty chair, just beside it.
They're gonna get into trouble if they're fucking in the men's room again. Just dumb luck that they haven't gotten caught yet. He sighed and set down his pen. Better me bustin' 'em than somebody else, I guess. I'll tell Roy I'm going, he'll understand.
"Hey Boss?"
Roy looked up from his work. He looked haggard already. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"I'm going to go on an errand, see about some lost dogs from the pack," he said. He could hear Riza's fingernails against the butt of her gun, once again, and comforted himself with the notion that her annoyance was more likely aimed at his missing comrades than at him.
He hoped it was, anyway.
His lover nodded. "Very well," he said. "Don't get lost on the way."
Jean saluted. "Yes, Sir," he said.
Then he turned and marched out of the room.
~♥~♥~♥~
By the time he returned-his search for his friend in three of the closest restrooms and one broom closet having proved fruitless, and his search of satisfaction for his nicotine craving having proved wildly successful-Lieutenant Breda and Sergeant Fury were seated at the big table, Heymans' back bent in an odd stoop and Cain's cheeks glowing a telltale red.
Jean glared at them. "Where have you two been?" he said. "Mustang's been looking for you."
"Uhm ... we ..."
Jean crossed his arms over his chest, watching Heymans struggle for an answer. It was no secret amongst the three of them that Jean knew full well about his best friend's relationship with the little sergeant, but still, he took it upon himself to tease both of them-Heymans more mercilessly than Cain, because he knew the older man could take it-every time he caught them being more than comrades-in-arms.
"I asked Lieutenant Breda to help me check the wiring in the General's car," said Cain, smoothly, giving Heymans a small wink that Jean didn't miss. "We're going to add a field telephone."
"Oh? Really?" said Jean, distracted from his task of teasing his friends by honest surprise. "Wow, what will they think of next?" He grinned at the look of relief passing over Cain's face and scratched the back of his neck, where Roy had bitten him, just before they'd entered Headquarters for the afternoon. "Mustang will love that. He'll be able to feel even more superior."
Cain smiled, deceptively innocent. "Most likely," he said.
Jean shook his head and settled in his chair, letting the subject drop as he picked up his pen and reached for another form. After all, he owed Cain for coming to his rescue, earlier.
Just have to wait 'til I've got Heymans alone to do my teasing, he thought, filling out the date at the top of the form.
Secretly, he hoped the grin he could feel spreading across his face made his best friend uneasy, even if only a little.
~♥~♥~♥~
"You certainly took long enough, finishing your work."
Jean snorted and tugged the collar of his greatcoat up, shielding his ears from the whipping wind. The snow had stopped, finally, but the temperature had plummeted since sunset, making the walk from Headquarters to the motor pool even more uncomfortable than it had been at lunchtime.
"Not my fault I got back to the office late, Boss," he grumbled, glaring sidelong at the man walking beside him, warm in the borrowed scarf wrapped around his neck. "And you're my commanding officer, you know, you could've ordered me to leave my work until tomorrow morning."
"And listen to Riza's lecture for a week? No thank you," said Roy. "Besides, you must have been going slowly, Lieutenant Breda was later returning to work after lunch than we were, and he still managed to finish his work on time."
"He probably just put some of his work into my stack," said Jean.
"Then you should be more observant and prevent that from happening again," said Roy.
Jean rolled his eyes. "Can't do that, Boss, unless you stop calling me into your office for 'private conferences' ever hour."
He could hear Roy chuckling and knew without checking that his lover didn't plan to change his ways, not one bit.
The motor pool was empty, by the time they arrived, the sound of Jean opening the back door for his lover echoing loudly amongst the other vehicles parked around theirs. Shivering, the tall blonde slid into the front seat and started the car, glancing in the rearview mirror at his lover, torn between amusement and pity at the sight of the smaller man shivering, hunched up like an annoyed kitten in his greatcoat.
"Bear with it, Roy, we'll be home soon enough," he said, gently, putting the car in reverse. He hesitated before backing out, however, reaching down to adjust his seat, which was pushed too far forward, farther forward than he'd had it when they'd driven to lunch together, just a few hours before.
That's weird, he thought. Didn't think anyone else used this car but Roy, and he certainly didn't use it this afternoon, I'd have noticed if he'd left.
Roy growled softly from the back seat. "Jean," he said, "what in the name of lost body heat and hypothermia are you doing?"
Jean shook his head and took his foot off the brake. "Nothing, Boss," he said. "Sorry."
They passed the drive to Roy's apartment in silence, the car's heater warming up just as Jean pulled up to the curb and switched off the ignition, dropping the keys into his pocket as Roy slid out of the car, looking cold and grumpy. He grunted when Jean draped an arm around his shoulders, but didn't shrug it off, shivering faintly in his lover's embrace as he unlocked his front door. Once inside, he pushed the door closed and opened his mouth to complain about the weather, but Jean's mouth covered his, muffling his words, so he quieted and let Jean kiss him, deep and hot, protesting when the younger man pulled away.
"I know you're cold, Boss, but I can make you warmer more quickly if you take off your coat and stuff," said Jean, looking honestly apologetic as he reached out to unbutton Roy's greatcoat, the borrowed scarf falling to the floor like a flightless bird.
"Very well, I trust you," said Roy, smirking.
And he did. He trusted Jean's big hands, pushing him down onto the cold sheets of his bed, then blindly pushing his legs apart, once they were both snuggled under the blankets. He trusted Jean's murmurs of not yet, Boss, you're not ready yet when he was panting and growling for Jean to stop teasing him and fuck him. And when Jean misjudged and accidentally made him come, sucking him to distract him from the pain of being stretched, he chuckled and trusted that Jean would still make it worth his while, gently ordering the blonde to go ahead and finish inside him.
"If you're sure," said Jean, hesitating only a moment before obediently pushing inside Roy's body, slow and steady.
Roy all but purred. "I'm quite sure," he said.
He closed his eyes while Jean fucked him, rocked his hips only a little into each hard thrust of Jean's hips. Above him, Jean was breathing hard, panting breath growing louder until he was moaning and trembling and rutting deep, a rhythm Roy knew well. He opened his eyes when he heard Jean's voice crack, watched the man throw his head back as he came, flushed with arousal and exertion. His own cock twitched a little at the sight, softening again at the discomfort of Jean sliding out of him.
"Sorry."
Roy chuckled and closed his eyes again, stretching a little as Jean began cleaning both of them of lubricant. "Hush, Jean," he said. "I'm much warmer now."
He could almost hear Jean's smile, big and lopsided and wide enough to show the man's teeth.
"Good, Boss," said Jean. "I'm glad to hear that. Want to shower, or just sleep?"
"Mmm, sleep," said Roy. "Just for now."
Jean chuckled and slid under the covers, spooning around Roy's back when the man presented him with it. Warm and sated and ridiculously happy, he drifted to sleep.
~♥~♥~♥~
At two A.M., he sat bolt upright from a dead sleep. "Holy shit!" he growled, the cold weather and his best friend's tardiness and Cain's quiet smile and the oddly adjusted car seat all coming together in his mind, making his blood boil. "I’m gonna kill 'em."
Beside him, his lover chuckled. "As you were, Jean," he mumbled into his pillow. "As you were."
Jean grumbled something unpleasant, but obeyed, holding Roy possessively tight until sleep claimed him, once again.
Revenge could wait until the morning, after all.