Theme and Number: #52. Rain Written for the livejournal community, 55themes
Genres: Er, almost Gen, pre-slash.
Warnings/Disclaimers: No warnings, FMA does not belong to me, no profit was made in the creation of this story.
Pairing: Jean Havoc/Roy Mustang
Summary: Havoc met Roy's gaze and regretted it. Roy's dark eyes were intense with his confession. Nicotine-craving-inducing intense.
Jean Havoc never felt a particular thrill for, nor aversion to, the rain. He accepted the weather as beyond his control and therefore adjusted accordingly. The wet atmosphere simply made him a more cautious driver and nothing more—especially when Roy was leaning against the window. The Colonel was precious cargo to Havoc, even if the man didn't know it. Havoc sneaked a glance at Roy in the mirror and saw him tracing an ungloved finger across the window. Ah yes, in the rain, Roy could not make a spark with his ignition gloves. Havoc's eyes fell back on the road.
Jean, the person under his slightly showy military exterior, hated being useless. By nature, Havoc had trouble sitting still, but through his brash blunders, he knew he would never command the power that someone like Roy wielded. When it rained, Roy had a taste of how Jean Havoc felt. Despite his affection for the Colonel, Havoc felt a certain fairness to it. He thought of it almost like leveling the playing field. He also felt more useful only carrying a gun. The Colonel had one too of course, but Havoc still felt his duties were elevated.
Suddenly, he realized the Colonel's house was upon them and slowed the car, stopping in front as usual. Wherever the musing and daydreaming came from, Havoc wished them away. He reached for the door to step out and fulfill his chauffeur duties.
"The rain is rather pleasant today, isn't it, Lieutenant?"
And Havoc paused. "Yes, sir, it is."
"I gather that you think I hate the rain?" Roy continued. His chuckle surprised Havoc into turning around. "Just the opposite. It's not difficult to create fire from water, Lieutenant, but not many people realize it. They don't understand how hydrogen and oxygen can react."
"That's over my head, sir," Havoc agreed.
"It's just as well, though," Roy said. "At least…I don't have to kill anyone when it rains."
Havoc touched his lips, reaching for a cigarette that wasn't there. He met Roy's gaze and regretted it. Roy's dark eyes were intense with his confession. Nicotine-craving-inducing intense. Havoc brought his hand down quickly and smacked it into the steering wheel. It dragged a chuckle from Roy. Havoc's hand had been through worse, but it hurt and he needed a cigarette.
"I'm getting out in a minute," Roy told him. "Light up if you're so inclined, Lieutenant."
"It's alright, sir," Havoc said.
"Light up, Havoc," Roy repeated. Havoc watched him slip his hand into his coat pocket for his gloves and pull one onto his right hand. Havoc had to take a moment to regain control of his brain and tell his arm to move. He pulled a cigarette from his front pocket then raised it to his lips. Roy's snap was soft and quick and soon Havoc was breathing in a relieving plume of smoke. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, enjoying his fix. Roy broke him out of his trance, opening the car door.
"I'll get that, sir," Havoc said, fumbling to climb out of the car. A hand on his shoulder stopped him.
"I'm sure I can open a door, Lieutenant," Roy Mustang said. "Don't worry about it for today." He pushed the door open and tore away from Havoc. The Lieutenant lowered his cigarette but before he could reply, Roy had slammed the car door. Havoc watched him through the window. He took another drag on his cigarette and replayed the last few minutes in his mind.
Havoc's eyes widened as he realized it. Roy had addressed him by name.