The Next Best Thing
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,347
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
12
Views:
2,347
Reviews:
16
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
5
Havoc had made an amazing discovery. If one added booze to coffee it became, almost miraculously, palatable. Thus, it was with great enthusiasm, which led in turn to great inebriation, that Havoc greeted the day. Drunk at work; there was discharge waiting to happen. Havoc found it hard to worry about such mundane, bureaucratic nonsense. The booze soothed the nic fits and the coffee added a maniacal twinge to his usual smile. The day was just too damn good…
“I haven’t smelled anything like that since the last time Maes and I had an assignment due and had decided to play darts for awhile instead.”
Havoc sighed a lungful of alcohol fumes and burnt coffee at his superior officer, and Roy was hard pressed to decide whether or not this was an improvement over the smoky odor that had until a few days previously clung to the man. Havoc was smiling, almost desperately, which was the last straw really. Havoc was not…like that.
“Havoc. My office. Now.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Havoc saluted with a coffee mug and pushed himself off of the counter he had been leaning on, engaged in a studious contemplation of the mechanism by which coffee was created. With the determined grace of the well and truly drunk Havoc ambled his way behind Roy’s stalking form.
Roy wasn’t angry at Havoc. Not really. Hopefully he had pulled the man away from general notice before someone smelled the alcohol pretty much evaporating from the man. That would save Roy a headache and a small pile of paperwork.
He watched Havoc collapse bonelessly onto the couch with a satisfied grunt, still clutching the coffee mug like it was some manner of Holy Grail. Havoc peered about for a few bemused seconds, and then blinked. Roy had never seen someone sober up so fast in his life.
No. Havoc was not sober, he looked as if he had woken from a particularly bad nightmare, but his brain hadn’t caught up with the fact he wasn’t dreaming any more. The whites of his eyes were strikingly apparent as he stared frantically around the office. Havoc began to shake, pressing himself into the couch, and the coffee cup fell to the floor with a crack, the handle breaking off upon impact.
“Lieutenant!” Previous anger forgotten Roy strode forward, intent on snapping Havoc out of whatever was tormenting him.
It wasn’t until he followed the path of Havoc’s horrified gaze that he made the connection.
There, almost hidden in the benign patterns of the rug in settled innocently in the middle of the room was a splatter of blood.
That…bastard. No, bastard was too nice a word.
In his own damn office.
“Jean.” Roy stood a careful few paces away from the terrified man. Havoc might be shaking and scared, but Roy knew from experience the man packed quite the punch. The last thing he needed was to add his own blood and perhaps a tooth or three to the stain on the floor. “Jean. Settle down. Its Roy.” Soothing, he hoped to hell his voice came out soothing…that he managed to keep all of the insane anger neatly bundled in his head for liberal use later.
No response. Well, Maes had taught him one very useful thing years ago. Roy walked slowly to his desk, retrieved the cold coffee he had left sitting there, and without ceremony sloshed it directly into Havoc’s face. Nothing snapped a man out of nightmares like something cold in the face.
Havoc sputtered back to the present with a rather undignified howl. “What the HELL?!”
A good shock like that also did wonders for sobering a man up.
“Pleasure to have you back, Lieutenant.” Roy drawled, settling himself into one of the armchairs.
“Eh, any reason you are not at your desk, sir?”
“It seems so much more…informal like this, doesn’t it?”
Havoc had the sense to distrust the congenial look on Mustang’s face. His own face was wet with coffee and he was hunched on the couch. Problem one was he didn’t know why Mustang would be tossing cold coffee in his face. Problem two, he didn’t know why his jaw hurt. It didn’t feel like he had been punched…
“Been a little stressed, Lieutenant?”
“huh?” Havoc gave up running his tongue around his mouth looking for sore spots and looked up at the pleasantly smiling Mustang.
“You must have been grinding your teeth. Makes the jaw hurt something fierce.”
Havoc was tired, too tired, he decided, to deal with Mustang in one of his moods. “Sir, if you want to interrogate me, interrogate me. I want a sm…a cup of coffee something fierce.”
Roy just stared at the slouching Havoc for a moment, trying to get the image of Archer touching…biting…fucking the other man out of his mind…Unfortunately his eyes kept drifting back to the traitorous little stain on the floor. Suddenly he was very tired, and very troubled. “I changed my mind.” Roy stood, stretched, and settled himself back into the comfortable superiority of the chair behind his desk.
Havoc knew a dismissal when he saw one. As Mustang shuffled some papers from one side of the desk to the other Havoc stood on awkwardly wobbly legs and let himself out.
“Coward.” Roy muttered, not at all meaning the man who had just made a silent exit.
“I haven’t smelled anything like that since the last time Maes and I had an assignment due and had decided to play darts for awhile instead.”
Havoc sighed a lungful of alcohol fumes and burnt coffee at his superior officer, and Roy was hard pressed to decide whether or not this was an improvement over the smoky odor that had until a few days previously clung to the man. Havoc was smiling, almost desperately, which was the last straw really. Havoc was not…like that.
“Havoc. My office. Now.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Havoc saluted with a coffee mug and pushed himself off of the counter he had been leaning on, engaged in a studious contemplation of the mechanism by which coffee was created. With the determined grace of the well and truly drunk Havoc ambled his way behind Roy’s stalking form.
Roy wasn’t angry at Havoc. Not really. Hopefully he had pulled the man away from general notice before someone smelled the alcohol pretty much evaporating from the man. That would save Roy a headache and a small pile of paperwork.
He watched Havoc collapse bonelessly onto the couch with a satisfied grunt, still clutching the coffee mug like it was some manner of Holy Grail. Havoc peered about for a few bemused seconds, and then blinked. Roy had never seen someone sober up so fast in his life.
No. Havoc was not sober, he looked as if he had woken from a particularly bad nightmare, but his brain hadn’t caught up with the fact he wasn’t dreaming any more. The whites of his eyes were strikingly apparent as he stared frantically around the office. Havoc began to shake, pressing himself into the couch, and the coffee cup fell to the floor with a crack, the handle breaking off upon impact.
“Lieutenant!” Previous anger forgotten Roy strode forward, intent on snapping Havoc out of whatever was tormenting him.
It wasn’t until he followed the path of Havoc’s horrified gaze that he made the connection.
There, almost hidden in the benign patterns of the rug in settled innocently in the middle of the room was a splatter of blood.
That…bastard. No, bastard was too nice a word.
In his own damn office.
“Jean.” Roy stood a careful few paces away from the terrified man. Havoc might be shaking and scared, but Roy knew from experience the man packed quite the punch. The last thing he needed was to add his own blood and perhaps a tooth or three to the stain on the floor. “Jean. Settle down. Its Roy.” Soothing, he hoped to hell his voice came out soothing…that he managed to keep all of the insane anger neatly bundled in his head for liberal use later.
No response. Well, Maes had taught him one very useful thing years ago. Roy walked slowly to his desk, retrieved the cold coffee he had left sitting there, and without ceremony sloshed it directly into Havoc’s face. Nothing snapped a man out of nightmares like something cold in the face.
Havoc sputtered back to the present with a rather undignified howl. “What the HELL?!”
A good shock like that also did wonders for sobering a man up.
“Pleasure to have you back, Lieutenant.” Roy drawled, settling himself into one of the armchairs.
“Eh, any reason you are not at your desk, sir?”
“It seems so much more…informal like this, doesn’t it?”
Havoc had the sense to distrust the congenial look on Mustang’s face. His own face was wet with coffee and he was hunched on the couch. Problem one was he didn’t know why Mustang would be tossing cold coffee in his face. Problem two, he didn’t know why his jaw hurt. It didn’t feel like he had been punched…
“Been a little stressed, Lieutenant?”
“huh?” Havoc gave up running his tongue around his mouth looking for sore spots and looked up at the pleasantly smiling Mustang.
“You must have been grinding your teeth. Makes the jaw hurt something fierce.”
Havoc was tired, too tired, he decided, to deal with Mustang in one of his moods. “Sir, if you want to interrogate me, interrogate me. I want a sm…a cup of coffee something fierce.”
Roy just stared at the slouching Havoc for a moment, trying to get the image of Archer touching…biting…fucking the other man out of his mind…Unfortunately his eyes kept drifting back to the traitorous little stain on the floor. Suddenly he was very tired, and very troubled. “I changed my mind.” Roy stood, stretched, and settled himself back into the comfortable superiority of the chair behind his desk.
Havoc knew a dismissal when he saw one. As Mustang shuffled some papers from one side of the desk to the other Havoc stood on awkwardly wobbly legs and let himself out.
“Coward.” Roy muttered, not at all meaning the man who had just made a silent exit.