Alright, here we go! 15 RoyxHavoc titles/themes, and I decided to make them into an ongoing story. Depending on how much I can write for any given title/theme, each chapter will contain most likely anywhere from one to five of the themes, separated in sections. I got these themes from the LJ community fma yaoi. Fanfiction dot net plus links equals hate.
Titles translated by zinthos. I don't own FMA. Need I repeat that this story(stories) is(are) ROYxHAVOC. Meaning shounen-ai. Meaning yaoi. Meaning boy love. Meaning FLAMING GAY. Meaning male homosexuals, and interactions between said male homosexuals, ranging from hugs, to kisses, to sex. If a chapter contains more explicit material, I'll put a note of that in the pretext of that chapter, so if you don't want to read it, you can just skip it, and still read the rest of what I've written. n.n;
Have fun. And let the RoyxHavoc begin! Oh, and I swear they're going to tie together somehow...even if it's not apparent just yet...
No.1 Eastern Commanding Office
Glancing around, Roy heaved a heavy sigh. What a lovely city, really. All that rain, oh, it was the epitome of sparkles (contrary to popular belief, Roy's sense of humor could remain perfectly dry despite the soggy weather). He'd have to get used to it, though...But why the fuck here...What I wouldn't give to be back in Central under that damn Fuhrer's beady eye...hell, Armstrong would be better than this perpetual drizzle...
Havoc glanced up from the paperwork Hawkeye had been kind enough to leave on his desk, giving his commanding officer a curious look. "Sir?" In a word he looked… discontent. Havoc's eyes shifted towards the rain-covered windows for just a moment, and he began to get somewhat of an idea of what caused the sigh.
There was an idle tapping and the shuffling of papers, followed by the thunk of a pen hitting Roy's desk and the creak of his chair leaning back. "How can you even concentrate on those papers like this?"
"Who says I was concentrating now?" There was a light smirk on his face, but only because the one delivering the work was not in the room.
The darker man across the room mirrored the smirk, chuckling lightly. "Point..." Roy stood from his chair, turning to face the window as one gloved hand pressed lightly against the glass. His expression almost instantly slipped into an almost unnerving blankness, unreadable, but unmistakably dark.
His pen was resting between his teeth as Jean leaned back in the chair, preferring to look at the darkened windows rather than the unsettling emptiness of Roy's face. "It's not quite home, is it?" He was frowning at the scenery now, quiet words murmured around the pen with practiced ease.
"Nn..." Roy's hand fell to his side, subconsciously moving to his pocket. "Sometimes I wonder if they sent me here to keep me where I couldn't do any damage..."
There was a long pause, and eventually Mustang spoke again. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this city..."
The delayed echo of another creaking chair filled the room as Havoc approached the window, standing a comfortably professional distance from the Colonel. His fingers hovered lightly over the glass as he peered down at the gloomy streets below them, and Havoc shrugged, turning his eyes towards Mustang. "Then don't get used to it."
Dark eyes turned to meet Havoc's gaze. "You know Hawkeye would kill me if I didn't get any work done at all until they transferred me back to Central..."
"And she'd kill me on assumption that I had convinced you that it was a good idea." Havoc replied, a smirk curving his lips, even if the idea was a bit unnerving.
"Paperwork and meetings are the same wherever you go," Jean went on, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Doesn't mean you have to like where you're doing them at, and it's only a matter of time before you go back to Central."
The Colonel let out a brief snort. "It doesn't mean I'll be able to concentrate long enough to work, either," he added, but dark eyes had already sparked back to life, something a little more like a smile than a smirk gracing his lips.
Havoc's eyes brightened considerably at the light spark of the Colonel's mood. "...It's not like you concentrate on your work any better at Central anyway..." Jean muttered to himself in a quiet voice, glancing to the other side of the room. But his smirk had since eased into an oddly content grin.
"But I'll be the last one to admit it, especially in front of Hawkeye," Roy grinned a bit now, relaxing his posture. "What about you?"
"She's a better shot than I am," Jean said a bit warily, eyeing the Colonel and his paperwork.
"She's a better shot than anybody, it's unnatural!" The dark haired man managed to chuckle lightly, taking a few steps back to lean against his desk. "It's not like I'm going to be able to do all this work right now anyway..."
The contrasting blonde cocked an eyebrow, amused. "Oh?" He took the steps needed to get closer to the other man, looking down at the papers spread somewhat neatly over the desk. "I can see what you mean... Yours are worse than mine..." Blue eyes lifted to meet darker ones, a grin twisting the corners of Havoc's mouth.
Perhaps just a little distraction would be fine, Roy thought, his own mouth turning up into that familiar smirk. "Lieutenant Hawkeye shouldn't be back for a few hours..."
"...Mm... Really?" Jean's voice retained a bored tone as he shifted to apparently glance at the papers directly behind Roy's back. His fingers brushed idly against the gloved fingertips on the desk, and the look he was giving the Colonel told him that Havoc was anything but bored at the moment. "Whatever would we dream of doing other than work without her here..."
In the blink of an eye, the darker man had slid off of the desk, gloves rough against Havoc's wrists as he pinned them against the polished wood surface, amused gleam in his eyes. "I wonder, Lieutenant..."
"...Well this could certainly be an idea," He had been pleasantly surprised at the sudden position, grinning down at Roy. The blonde haired man pressed his forehead against Roy's. "Any others?"
"Maybe..." But it wasn't at all a maybe, as Roy's smirk vanished in exchange for his lips to be pressed against Havoc's in a heated kiss. Gloved hands moved quickly from bare wrists to become fisted in the lapels of his subordinate's uniform.
A soft pleased sound hummed at the back of Havoc's throat at the pulling, letting his eyes close. His freed hands were moving, one sliding through softer black locks to tilt Roy's head back just slightly, letting Havoc get a better sample of Roy's mouth.
After what seemed like an eternity, Roy pulled back, fire back in his eyes from the dull ash they'd been earlier. His hands released Havoc's uniform, subconsciously straightening his own as the smirk returned as well. "Maybe I can get used to East City after all..."
It took a moment for Havoc to open his eyes, but he gave Roy a pleasant half-lidded look when he did, almost like he was about to start purring at him. Instead he chuckled, taking a step away from the desk to brush a kiss on Roy's cheek before straightening his stance. "...Let me know if there's anything I can do to make it more comfortable, Sir."
Roy settled back into his chair, pen in hand. "Got any plans for tonight?"
Jean had returned to the window, leaning against the windowsill. "My dates are on my desk, and I don't think they like me very much."
"I think you can see them now, though...I've got a few of my own after all..." Roy simply grinned in Havoc's direction. "Best get that over with before Hawkeye gets in...But once she's off the clock..." he paused for a moment, smirk growing, "I can always arrange for a little overtime..."
Jean's smirk copied Roy's as he grudgingly returned to his desk. "I think that's something I can look forward to..." He eased into the squeaky chair, vaguely noting that the chairs at Central didn't make nearly as much noise. But his content smirk didn't fade any as he picked up his pen again. It was just another thing they would have to adjust to during overtime.
So? Have I scared you people off yet? No? Good! Please review, I like cookies…and catnip…give the kitty some treats for her efforts?
I like fire, but I don't like flames. Any flames will be deflected back at you by Roy. n.n; Constructive criticism is your friend and mine.