Full Metal Alchemist, "The Big Mystery," Breda/Fury, Havoc/Scheiska, PG-13
Happy "Lunchtime Havoc" Day! I'm not exactly sure what that prompt was intended for, I must confess, but ... here's how I interpreted it?
It's fluff for crystal_lilly, because she needs it ... it's my best shot at Armstrong/Havoc for onyx_shinigami, but don't worry, it's not sexual interaction between them ... and the rest of it can be blamed wholly on chrstphrl, because it is 100% HIS FAULT.
That's it, that's all, y'all. Read and comment, I do purr when I get feedback.
Now to go work on half-naked Roy snuggling manga-spoiler Jean.
Cheers!
The Big Mystery
by Mistr3ss Quickly
At twelve o'clock, Wednesday afternoon, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc looked distracted.
Spacey.
Out of it.
Which, in and of itself, wasn't unusual. The man was prone to daydreaming, after all, and since his disastrous date with Major Armstrong's younger sister, he'd only gotten worse. However, the fact that he was distracted, spacey, and out-of-it because his nose had made friends with the inside of a book ...
That was unusual. Suspicious, at the very least.
"It's not even a romance novel," said Heymans, voice low and confidential, watching his best friend from his commanding officer's private office.
Roy arched an eyebrow at him. "And you would know what one of those looks like how, exactly, Lieutenant?"
Heymans grinned and draped his arm around Cain's shoulders, pulling the little sergeant close. "They're not mine, sir," he said. "I just find 'em in the bathroom sometimes, get yelled at if I splash water on them when I get out of the shower."
Cain turned bright red and hissed something at his lover, under his breath. Roy cleared his throat and dropped the topic, smoothing the fabric of his uniform jacket while Heymans kissed Cain's temple in apology.
"I tried to ask him what he was reading," said Heymans, once his lover had stopped scowling at him, "but he said it was none of my business and went right back to reading it."
"I tried to see the title," added Cain, "but the cover doesn't have anything written on it, and he usually has his hand over the spine, covering it up too much for me to read what it says."
Roy sighed, frowning at the blonde sitting in the other room, thoroughly engrossed in his reading. "I could order him to tell me what it is he's reading, I suppose," he said, "but that hardly seems gentlemanly."
Heymans snorted. Roy glared at him.
"Something on your mind, Lieutenant?"
Heymans shook his head. "No sir," he said.
"You're quite certain?"
Heymans nodded. "Yes sir," he said.
Roy's glare deepened. "Good," he said. "Because my personal life, however it may or may not relate to Lieutenant Havoc's personal life, has little-to-nothing to do with the matter at hand, and is most certainly none of your business."
Cain sighed. "It's our business when Jean shows up at three o'clock in the morning, drunk and morose because he's spent another Friday night drinking alone and thinks that we'll make good company because neither of us has a girlfriend, just like him."
He shrunk back a bit when Roy's glare moved from Heymans to settle on him.
"Sir," he added.
"Hmph," said Roy. "Well. Keep a sharp eye on him. Can't let a situation get out of hand, simply because of negligence."
"Yes sir," said Cain.
"Yes sir," said Heymans.
Oblivious, Jean Havoc turned a page in his book and read on.
~*~*~*~
At two o'clock, Jean took his book with him on his lunch break, leaving his cigarettes behind.
"Something," said Heymans, "is seriously wrong with that man."
Cain nodded furiously.
Roy stood, hands planted on his hips. "New plan, men," he announced. "We're going to scout out the situation. Split up, take care that you are not seen."
"Sir!" said Heymans.
"Sir!" said Cain.
They found Jean sitting under a maple tree just outside Headquarters, the blonde chewing a bite of the sandwich he'd brought with him. Cain leaned perched in the sill of a window on the second floor and watched the blonde, but all he could make out was the contents of Jean's sandwich (peanut butter and jelly). Heymans situated himself near a trash bin, close enough that he could make out the first two letters on the spine of the book, but a bee stung him on the hand before he could see the rest.
Roy encountered a handful of admirers from the typing pool and never even made it outside.
"This is getting ridiculous," he grumbled, twenty minutes later, slouching at his desk and watching with mild amusement as Cain pressed an ice pack against Heymans' swollen hand. "Time for plan C."
"Plan C, sir?" said Cain.
Roy nodded. "Plan C," he said.
"These forms require your attention prior to the implementation of extra-curricular plans unrelated to direct orders and dealings of this Military, sir," said Riza, materializing in the doorway and marching into the room, one finger extended in the direction of the stack of papers sitting on Roy's desk. "Regardless of which letter you have assigned said plans, or your desperation to see them brought to fruition."
Roy glared at her.
Cain concealed his amusement by kissing Heymans' injury.
Heymans yelped.
"And as for the two of you," said Riza, turning and pinning her subordinates with a sharp look, "your paperwork takes higher priority than inspecting the private conference room, supply closet, or men's room together. From now on. Is that understood?"
Cain nodded.
Heymans nodded.
Riza narrowed her eyes at them, then turned and marched from the room.
"God she's scary," said Heymans, once the door closed behind her. "Tell me she's not plan C, Sir?"
Roy shuddered and shook his head. "No, Lieutenant," he said. "We don't involve her until plan R."
"Oh thank God," said Cain.
Then, at the sound of a pistol sliding from its holster, audible even through the heavy wooden door of Roy's office, all three men scampered back to work.
~*~*~*~
At three o'clock, Roy picked up the phone and began dialing.
"Why hello there. Yes, I'm quite well thank you, and yourself? Oh good, good. Say, I've a small favor to ask of you."
Cain and Heymans exchanged A Look, then ceased all productive activity to eavesdrop intently on their superior's conversation.
"Tomorrow, could you see to one of my appointments for me, please? Yes, that's the one, how did you-oh. Oh I see. Well that's convenient, isn't it?"
Heymans quirked an eyebrow at his lover. Cain shrugged. From her desk, Riza sighed and reached for her hip, sending both men quickly back to what, at least, looked like work.
"Yes, yes. Tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours. Yes. Thank you."
Then Roy hung up the phone. Heymans rolled his eyes and drew a question mark in the corner of the form he was filling out. Cain glanced at it and shook his head.
Jean looked up at them, then thought better of asking and returned his attention to his own work.
~*~*~*~
At one fifty-seven, the following day, Heymans and Roy joined Cain in the window on the second floor, the three of them squished tightly together, watching Jean amble down the walk and settle under his maple tree, book and sandwich in hand.
"Ah," said Roy, just as Heymans' hand found its way across Cain's backside and began negotiating with the tails of the younger man's uniform. "Here we go."
Cain gasped and elbowed his lover in the ribs.
Roy smirked. "Yes," he said. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"What is, Sir?" said Heymans.
Roy looked at him, noticed movement beneath Cain's uniform tails, and rolled his eyes.
"Nevermind," he said, turning and looking away.
Heymans shrugged. "If you say so," he said.
"I told you not to do that around him," said Cain, when Roy pouted and left them alone after only a few minutes. "He gets jealous, you know."
Heymans grinned at his lover. "Yeah," he said. "I know."
Then he pushed Cain against the wall and kissed him, quieting whatever the man might have been preparing to say next.
~*~*~*~
In the end, not a single one of them was paying any attention at all when Plan C settled himself down in the grass beside Jean, slinging an arm around the man's shoulders with enough force that Jean was forced to stop reading and focus, instead, on breathing.
"LIEUTENANT HAVOC," said Alex Armstrong. "HOW WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU, LAD. WHAT'S THIS YOU'RE READING?"
He was speaking more loudly than usual, as per Roy's indication that the conversation between himself and Jean was to be overheard, but it was honestly difficult to distinguish his efforts from his normal bombasticity.
"Uh," said Jean. "A book."
Alex nodded enthusiastically. "GOOD MAN," he said. "NOTHING QUITE LIKE THE JOY OF READING A BOOK, EH?"
Jean shrugged, as much as he could with Alex's arm weighing his shoulders down, anyway. "I suppose so," he said. "Never been much into reading, honestly."
"OH, IS THAT SO?" said Alex. "AND WHY MIGHT THAT BE?"
Another shrug. "I dunno."
Alex frowned, casting a quick glance at the second storey window where Mustang had indicated he'd be watching. The sight of what looked like the Colonel engaged in a rather personal romantic tryst was, indeed, not what Alex had expected to see, but he supposed it not completely unheard of. He did, however, find it rather puzzling that the Colonel's partner of choice was a woman with short red hair, bigger and taller all over than the Colonel himself.
A mystery to be solved later, he decided, returning his attention to the hapless blonde sitting beside him.
Jean cleared his throat. "How's your family, Major?"
"AH, YOUNG JEAN," said Alex, greatly moved. "SUCH A CARING MAN. THEY'RE WELL, THANK YOU, QUITE WELL."
"Oh, um ... good," said Jean. "That's very good to hear. Tell Catherine I said hi, and that I hope her, uh, piano practice is coming along well."
"I SHALL," said Alex, jostling Jean from side to side. "ON THE HONOR OF MY FAMILY, I SHALL."
Jean winced and squirmed a bit. "Thanks," he gasped.
Alex beamed at him, then stole another glance at the second storey window. The amorous pair had disappeared, leaving no audience whatsoever for his brilliant acting.
A pity, to be sure.
He released his hold on Jean and patted the man on the back, hard enough that Jean lost his grip on the book to which he'd been valiantly clinging throughout his encounter with the exuberant major. Quick as a flash, Alex snagged the book and examined the plain cover, then flipped it open and read the title page.
The Color of Copper: Tales of the Treasures of the Earth
And beneath that, in small, neat script:
~* property of JoAnn Scheiska *~
Jean whimpered and snatched his book back, flushing deep red as he clutched it to his chest.
"'m just borrowing it," he mumbled.
"INDEED," said Alex, nodding sagely. "AND A FINE PIECE OF LITERATURE IT IS. NOW, SHALL WE HAVE OUR LUNCH, DEAR LIEUTENANT? I FEAR YOU'RE LOOKING PECKISH."
Jean could do nothing but nod. He slid the book safely into his uniform jacket and unwrapped his sandwich-egg salad, which earned him a lecture on cholesterol from Alex-which he ate in record time, just so that he could escape from his unexpected, unwanted company.
Alex let him go without argument, then made his way up to his old friend's office to report what he had found.
~*~*~*~
"No," said Roy at four o'clock, when his subordinates managed to slip under Riza's radar and sneak into his office. "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention well enough to find out for yourselves."
"Neither were you, sir," said Heymans. "Major Armstrong came in to give you his report."
Roy made a hmphing noise and adjusted the sleeve of his uniform jacket. "Because he's a loyal soldier and understands the value of protocol," he said.
But instead of returning to their work like scolded children, Heymans crossed his arms over his chest like a pouting child, and Cain smiled.
Smiled.
"Protocol, sir?" he said. "But ... isn't it against protocol for you to spend your lunch break in the west conference room with Elizabeth from Records? Last I checked, fraternization was heavily frowned upon."
Roy blinked at him. "Are you trying to blackmail me, Sergeant?" he said.
"Why no, sir," said Cain. "Of course not."
"But you're still gonna tell us what Major Armstrong told you," said Heymans, slipping his arm around Cain's waist and grinning. "Right?"
Roy glared at them both, then caved and told them everything he knew.
~*~*~*~
At eight o'clock that evening, Heymans decided that he just couldn't take it anymore.
"Why," he said, watching his lover undress for bed, "would he be reading a book about the politics of metal ore mines in Amestris? That's stuff smart people care about. Jean's not smart people. He's dumber than a sack of hair."
Cain chuckled softly and slid into bed, squirming a little under the reflexive molestation he tended to receive whenever he was within Heymans' reach. "Don't be cruel, 'mans," he said. "Jean's not that unintelligent, and you know it."
Heymans snorted and nipped at Cain's throat. "No, he is," he said. "I know that for a fact. Jean's an idiot."
"An idiot who's slogging through a boring historical text, just so he'll have something to talk about with his girlfriend, the next time they go on a date, perhaps?" said Cain, rubbing Heymans' back in big, slow circles with the palm of his hand.
"A ... what?"
Cain chuckled. "Major Armstrong said the book was labeled as being one from Miss Scheiska's collection," he said. "From the look on Colonel Mustang's face, he understood the implications of that particular detail. Plus the fact that Jean's been desperately reading that book, every chance he gets ... the fact that he's no longer pining after the girls downstairs ... he's trying to give up smoking ... it all makes sense to me."
Heymans growled and rolled them, pulling Cain up on top of him in a tangle of legs and blankets.
"You're not trying to make it look like I'm the stupid one, are ya Cain?" he said, fingers resting threateningly over the younger man's very ticklish sides. "'Cause that's what it's looking like, to me."
Cain shrugged, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "Maybe." He leaned down and kissed Heymans on the chin, the nose, the lips. "But I'll tell you this: you don't need to do anything before you date with me, 'mans. I like you how you are."
Heymans blushed, hands moving up to his lover's shoulders, pulling the man down for a kiss.
"Love ya, Little Man," he said, gruffly.
Cain nuzzled him. "Love you too, Big Man," he said. "Even though you are kind of dim."
He squealed at the slap of Heymans' hand on his ass, clinging happily to the bigger man as he was rolled and punished thoroughly for his teasing.
~*~*~*~
On the other side of Central City, at eight thirteen P.M., Roy Mustang gave up on sulking and reached for one of the books on his bookshelf, losing himself in the dry texts recounting the history of automobile engineering until his eyes were crossing, his mind buzzing with boredom.
He'd always loved a good challenge, after all.
It's fluff for crystal_lilly, because she needs it ... it's my best shot at Armstrong/Havoc for onyx_shinigami, but don't worry, it's not sexual interaction between them ... and the rest of it can be blamed wholly on chrstphrl, because it is 100% HIS FAULT.
That's it, that's all, y'all. Read and comment, I do purr when I get feedback.
Now to go work on half-naked Roy snuggling manga-spoiler Jean.
Cheers!
The Big Mystery
by Mistr3ss Quickly
At twelve o'clock, Wednesday afternoon, Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc looked distracted.
Spacey.
Out of it.
Which, in and of itself, wasn't unusual. The man was prone to daydreaming, after all, and since his disastrous date with Major Armstrong's younger sister, he'd only gotten worse. However, the fact that he was distracted, spacey, and out-of-it because his nose had made friends with the inside of a book ...
That was unusual. Suspicious, at the very least.
"It's not even a romance novel," said Heymans, voice low and confidential, watching his best friend from his commanding officer's private office.
Roy arched an eyebrow at him. "And you would know what one of those looks like how, exactly, Lieutenant?"
Heymans grinned and draped his arm around Cain's shoulders, pulling the little sergeant close. "They're not mine, sir," he said. "I just find 'em in the bathroom sometimes, get yelled at if I splash water on them when I get out of the shower."
Cain turned bright red and hissed something at his lover, under his breath. Roy cleared his throat and dropped the topic, smoothing the fabric of his uniform jacket while Heymans kissed Cain's temple in apology.
"I tried to ask him what he was reading," said Heymans, once his lover had stopped scowling at him, "but he said it was none of my business and went right back to reading it."
"I tried to see the title," added Cain, "but the cover doesn't have anything written on it, and he usually has his hand over the spine, covering it up too much for me to read what it says."
Roy sighed, frowning at the blonde sitting in the other room, thoroughly engrossed in his reading. "I could order him to tell me what it is he's reading, I suppose," he said, "but that hardly seems gentlemanly."
Heymans snorted. Roy glared at him.
"Something on your mind, Lieutenant?"
Heymans shook his head. "No sir," he said.
"You're quite certain?"
Heymans nodded. "Yes sir," he said.
Roy's glare deepened. "Good," he said. "Because my personal life, however it may or may not relate to Lieutenant Havoc's personal life, has little-to-nothing to do with the matter at hand, and is most certainly none of your business."
Cain sighed. "It's our business when Jean shows up at three o'clock in the morning, drunk and morose because he's spent another Friday night drinking alone and thinks that we'll make good company because neither of us has a girlfriend, just like him."
He shrunk back a bit when Roy's glare moved from Heymans to settle on him.
"Sir," he added.
"Hmph," said Roy. "Well. Keep a sharp eye on him. Can't let a situation get out of hand, simply because of negligence."
"Yes sir," said Cain.
"Yes sir," said Heymans.
Oblivious, Jean Havoc turned a page in his book and read on.
~*~*~*~
At two o'clock, Jean took his book with him on his lunch break, leaving his cigarettes behind.
"Something," said Heymans, "is seriously wrong with that man."
Cain nodded furiously.
Roy stood, hands planted on his hips. "New plan, men," he announced. "We're going to scout out the situation. Split up, take care that you are not seen."
"Sir!" said Heymans.
"Sir!" said Cain.
They found Jean sitting under a maple tree just outside Headquarters, the blonde chewing a bite of the sandwich he'd brought with him. Cain leaned perched in the sill of a window on the second floor and watched the blonde, but all he could make out was the contents of Jean's sandwich (peanut butter and jelly). Heymans situated himself near a trash bin, close enough that he could make out the first two letters on the spine of the book, but a bee stung him on the hand before he could see the rest.
Roy encountered a handful of admirers from the typing pool and never even made it outside.
"This is getting ridiculous," he grumbled, twenty minutes later, slouching at his desk and watching with mild amusement as Cain pressed an ice pack against Heymans' swollen hand. "Time for plan C."
"Plan C, sir?" said Cain.
Roy nodded. "Plan C," he said.
"These forms require your attention prior to the implementation of extra-curricular plans unrelated to direct orders and dealings of this Military, sir," said Riza, materializing in the doorway and marching into the room, one finger extended in the direction of the stack of papers sitting on Roy's desk. "Regardless of which letter you have assigned said plans, or your desperation to see them brought to fruition."
Roy glared at her.
Cain concealed his amusement by kissing Heymans' injury.
Heymans yelped.
"And as for the two of you," said Riza, turning and pinning her subordinates with a sharp look, "your paperwork takes higher priority than inspecting the private conference room, supply closet, or men's room together. From now on. Is that understood?"
Cain nodded.
Heymans nodded.
Riza narrowed her eyes at them, then turned and marched from the room.
"God she's scary," said Heymans, once the door closed behind her. "Tell me she's not plan C, Sir?"
Roy shuddered and shook his head. "No, Lieutenant," he said. "We don't involve her until plan R."
"Oh thank God," said Cain.
Then, at the sound of a pistol sliding from its holster, audible even through the heavy wooden door of Roy's office, all three men scampered back to work.
~*~*~*~
At three o'clock, Roy picked up the phone and began dialing.
"Why hello there. Yes, I'm quite well thank you, and yourself? Oh good, good. Say, I've a small favor to ask of you."
Cain and Heymans exchanged A Look, then ceased all productive activity to eavesdrop intently on their superior's conversation.
"Tomorrow, could you see to one of my appointments for me, please? Yes, that's the one, how did you-oh. Oh I see. Well that's convenient, isn't it?"
Heymans quirked an eyebrow at his lover. Cain shrugged. From her desk, Riza sighed and reached for her hip, sending both men quickly back to what, at least, looked like work.
"Yes, yes. Tomorrow at fourteen hundred hours. Yes. Thank you."
Then Roy hung up the phone. Heymans rolled his eyes and drew a question mark in the corner of the form he was filling out. Cain glanced at it and shook his head.
Jean looked up at them, then thought better of asking and returned his attention to his own work.
~*~*~*~
At one fifty-seven, the following day, Heymans and Roy joined Cain in the window on the second floor, the three of them squished tightly together, watching Jean amble down the walk and settle under his maple tree, book and sandwich in hand.
"Ah," said Roy, just as Heymans' hand found its way across Cain's backside and began negotiating with the tails of the younger man's uniform. "Here we go."
Cain gasped and elbowed his lover in the ribs.
Roy smirked. "Yes," he said. "Brilliant, isn't it?"
"What is, Sir?" said Heymans.
Roy looked at him, noticed movement beneath Cain's uniform tails, and rolled his eyes.
"Nevermind," he said, turning and looking away.
Heymans shrugged. "If you say so," he said.
"I told you not to do that around him," said Cain, when Roy pouted and left them alone after only a few minutes. "He gets jealous, you know."
Heymans grinned at his lover. "Yeah," he said. "I know."
Then he pushed Cain against the wall and kissed him, quieting whatever the man might have been preparing to say next.
~*~*~*~
In the end, not a single one of them was paying any attention at all when Plan C settled himself down in the grass beside Jean, slinging an arm around the man's shoulders with enough force that Jean was forced to stop reading and focus, instead, on breathing.
"LIEUTENANT HAVOC," said Alex Armstrong. "HOW WONDERFUL TO SEE YOU, LAD. WHAT'S THIS YOU'RE READING?"
He was speaking more loudly than usual, as per Roy's indication that the conversation between himself and Jean was to be overheard, but it was honestly difficult to distinguish his efforts from his normal bombasticity.
"Uh," said Jean. "A book."
Alex nodded enthusiastically. "GOOD MAN," he said. "NOTHING QUITE LIKE THE JOY OF READING A BOOK, EH?"
Jean shrugged, as much as he could with Alex's arm weighing his shoulders down, anyway. "I suppose so," he said. "Never been much into reading, honestly."
"OH, IS THAT SO?" said Alex. "AND WHY MIGHT THAT BE?"
Another shrug. "I dunno."
Alex frowned, casting a quick glance at the second storey window where Mustang had indicated he'd be watching. The sight of what looked like the Colonel engaged in a rather personal romantic tryst was, indeed, not what Alex had expected to see, but he supposed it not completely unheard of. He did, however, find it rather puzzling that the Colonel's partner of choice was a woman with short red hair, bigger and taller all over than the Colonel himself.
A mystery to be solved later, he decided, returning his attention to the hapless blonde sitting beside him.
Jean cleared his throat. "How's your family, Major?"
"AH, YOUNG JEAN," said Alex, greatly moved. "SUCH A CARING MAN. THEY'RE WELL, THANK YOU, QUITE WELL."
"Oh, um ... good," said Jean. "That's very good to hear. Tell Catherine I said hi, and that I hope her, uh, piano practice is coming along well."
"I SHALL," said Alex, jostling Jean from side to side. "ON THE HONOR OF MY FAMILY, I SHALL."
Jean winced and squirmed a bit. "Thanks," he gasped.
Alex beamed at him, then stole another glance at the second storey window. The amorous pair had disappeared, leaving no audience whatsoever for his brilliant acting.
A pity, to be sure.
He released his hold on Jean and patted the man on the back, hard enough that Jean lost his grip on the book to which he'd been valiantly clinging throughout his encounter with the exuberant major. Quick as a flash, Alex snagged the book and examined the plain cover, then flipped it open and read the title page.
The Color of Copper: Tales of the Treasures of the Earth
And beneath that, in small, neat script:
~* property of JoAnn Scheiska *~
Jean whimpered and snatched his book back, flushing deep red as he clutched it to his chest.
"'m just borrowing it," he mumbled.
"INDEED," said Alex, nodding sagely. "AND A FINE PIECE OF LITERATURE IT IS. NOW, SHALL WE HAVE OUR LUNCH, DEAR LIEUTENANT? I FEAR YOU'RE LOOKING PECKISH."
Jean could do nothing but nod. He slid the book safely into his uniform jacket and unwrapped his sandwich-egg salad, which earned him a lecture on cholesterol from Alex-which he ate in record time, just so that he could escape from his unexpected, unwanted company.
Alex let him go without argument, then made his way up to his old friend's office to report what he had found.
~*~*~*~
"No," said Roy at four o'clock, when his subordinates managed to slip under Riza's radar and sneak into his office. "It's not my fault you weren't paying attention well enough to find out for yourselves."
"Neither were you, sir," said Heymans. "Major Armstrong came in to give you his report."
Roy made a hmphing noise and adjusted the sleeve of his uniform jacket. "Because he's a loyal soldier and understands the value of protocol," he said.
But instead of returning to their work like scolded children, Heymans crossed his arms over his chest like a pouting child, and Cain smiled.
Smiled.
"Protocol, sir?" he said. "But ... isn't it against protocol for you to spend your lunch break in the west conference room with Elizabeth from Records? Last I checked, fraternization was heavily frowned upon."
Roy blinked at him. "Are you trying to blackmail me, Sergeant?" he said.
"Why no, sir," said Cain. "Of course not."
"But you're still gonna tell us what Major Armstrong told you," said Heymans, slipping his arm around Cain's waist and grinning. "Right?"
Roy glared at them both, then caved and told them everything he knew.
~*~*~*~
At eight o'clock that evening, Heymans decided that he just couldn't take it anymore.
"Why," he said, watching his lover undress for bed, "would he be reading a book about the politics of metal ore mines in Amestris? That's stuff smart people care about. Jean's not smart people. He's dumber than a sack of hair."
Cain chuckled softly and slid into bed, squirming a little under the reflexive molestation he tended to receive whenever he was within Heymans' reach. "Don't be cruel, 'mans," he said. "Jean's not that unintelligent, and you know it."
Heymans snorted and nipped at Cain's throat. "No, he is," he said. "I know that for a fact. Jean's an idiot."
"An idiot who's slogging through a boring historical text, just so he'll have something to talk about with his girlfriend, the next time they go on a date, perhaps?" said Cain, rubbing Heymans' back in big, slow circles with the palm of his hand.
"A ... what?"
Cain chuckled. "Major Armstrong said the book was labeled as being one from Miss Scheiska's collection," he said. "From the look on Colonel Mustang's face, he understood the implications of that particular detail. Plus the fact that Jean's been desperately reading that book, every chance he gets ... the fact that he's no longer pining after the girls downstairs ... he's trying to give up smoking ... it all makes sense to me."
Heymans growled and rolled them, pulling Cain up on top of him in a tangle of legs and blankets.
"You're not trying to make it look like I'm the stupid one, are ya Cain?" he said, fingers resting threateningly over the younger man's very ticklish sides. "'Cause that's what it's looking like, to me."
Cain shrugged, grinning wide enough to show teeth. "Maybe." He leaned down and kissed Heymans on the chin, the nose, the lips. "But I'll tell you this: you don't need to do anything before you date with me, 'mans. I like you how you are."
Heymans blushed, hands moving up to his lover's shoulders, pulling the man down for a kiss.
"Love ya, Little Man," he said, gruffly.
Cain nuzzled him. "Love you too, Big Man," he said. "Even though you are kind of dim."
He squealed at the slap of Heymans' hand on his ass, clinging happily to the bigger man as he was rolled and punished thoroughly for his teasing.
~*~*~*~
On the other side of Central City, at eight thirteen P.M., Roy Mustang gave up on sulking and reached for one of the books on his bookshelf, losing himself in the dry texts recounting the history of automobile engineering until his eyes were crossing, his mind buzzing with boredom.
He'd always loved a good challenge, after all.