Handbaskets (FMA double drabble)
Title: Handbaskets
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Rating: FRT for UST
Words: 198
Summary: In response to this picture on royai.
She’d come charging at him, aggravated as she often was, and she expected him to back off. He always did, for her, though never really for anyone else.
This time, though, he didn’t stand down. He straightened a little, smirking, hands in his pockets. They were close enough to touch, chest-to-chest, close enough to… to be very distracting. Roy, you bastard. Hawkeye had built her career on her ability to remain cool under pressure, to respond to inappropriate approaches by her overwhelmingly male fellow-officers with a scathing wit that had most of them terrified. There was something about this man, though, that overwhelmed all her carefully constructed defenses. “Sir,” she said, somehow unable to keep the hesitation out of her voice. Damn him for making me this vulnerable. Damn me for liking it.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” He blinked once, slowly, still with that infuriating smirk, the one that brought women flocking to him.
Biting her lip, looking away, would be a sign of weakness she would not show him.
“Go to Hell,” she said instead.
He smiled, a real smile rather than the cocky smirk. “Come with me,” he said, and kissed her.
Fandom: Full Metal Alchemist
Rating: FRT for UST
Words: 198
Summary: In response to this picture on royai.
She’d come charging at him, aggravated as she often was, and she expected him to back off. He always did, for her, though never really for anyone else.
This time, though, he didn’t stand down. He straightened a little, smirking, hands in his pockets. They were close enough to touch, chest-to-chest, close enough to… to be very distracting. Roy, you bastard. Hawkeye had built her career on her ability to remain cool under pressure, to respond to inappropriate approaches by her overwhelmingly male fellow-officers with a scathing wit that had most of them terrified. There was something about this man, though, that overwhelmed all her carefully constructed defenses. “Sir,” she said, somehow unable to keep the hesitation out of her voice. Damn him for making me this vulnerable. Damn me for liking it.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” He blinked once, slowly, still with that infuriating smirk, the one that brought women flocking to him.
Biting her lip, looking away, would be a sign of weakness she would not show him.
“Go to Hell,” she said instead.
He smiled, a real smile rather than the cocky smirk. “Come with me,” he said, and kissed her.