NOTE: I'm just going to put it out there that in my mind, Havoc is the smaller man… though he is taller than Hughes, he's leaner, and not so broad shouldered or solid.

Therefore, Havoc = smaller man

Chapter Two:

Jean straightened as his boss opened the door, surprised to see the Lieutenant Colonel leaning against the kitchen table. He'd been told this was informal, and he hadn't needed to wear his uniform, so here he was, wearing a pair of dark blue denim jeans, a white T-shirt, and a high collared brown jacket, his trademark cigarette unlit in his mouth. He gave the two a friendly grin, stepping into the small house.

"How unusual Colonel, you rarely call for me outside of work hours for anything but work, did you need an extra player?" he asked, eyeing the Poker game.

"Actually," he paused, his mind working quickly, he sighed inwardly, silently apologising to his second Lieutenant, "Lieutenant Hawkeye just called, she needs me to sign some more paperwork, so Maes has been left without a partner. I thought you wouldn't mind lending a hand."

"Well sure, I don't mind, but rumour has it you two are pretty skilled at poker, I'm not going to be any match for you Hughes" his formality respectful, yet non-existent with the Lieutenant Colonel.

Roy just spread his hands palms up, as if to say, 'What can you do?' and stepped out of the doorway. He started his car engine, and headed towards Madame Christmas' bar, intent on flirting with the girls, and drinking himself stupid.

"Well come on then, sit, we need to decide on the wager," Maes said, his eyes smouldering behind his rectangular glasses. He already had his strategy planned, and with Roy's absence, it was only going to be that much easier.

"Oh, right. Sorry, but I don't have any money on me, I didn't know we were going to be playing poker you see," floundered Havoc.

"Is that so? Well then, how about a favour? We each wager our willingness for any favour, don't worry, I won't ask you to publicly humiliate yourself, Jean" purred Maes, noting the key word, publicly.

Normally Havoc knew better than to agree to a wager like that with a man far more skilled at poker than himself, but the way Hughes had said his name, matched with the expression in his eyes had him flustered and confused.

"O-okay, a favour then. I'll deal the cards" managed the blond man.

The cards were dealt. The game was played. The outcome expected. Havoc lost. Maes won.

Havoc sighed, "alright Hughes, a favour, what is it?" bracing himself for the worst.

"Now, now Jean, it's far too formal to address a poker friend by their last name. Call me Maes" cooed the older man, glowing with smugness at his most recent triumph.


"Alright that's enough beating around the bush, come here, "ordered Maes, watching Jean like a hawk watches its prey until the blond man was directly in front of him, "sit."

Jean looked around confusedly at this, and started making his way to the unoccupied chair to Maes left, but was pulled down by strong arms, into the other man's lap.

"Huh? Uh-Maes! What are you-?"

"Shh" soothed Maes, leaning in dangerously close to his captive's ear, "you asked me what I wanted, and I'm just telling you. I want you, Jean. Just for tonight, you can never speak to me again afterwards if that's what you want, but I'm counting on you falling in love with me, and never wanting to let me go. And if that's the case, then you won't have to."

Havoc's lips had parted in surprise, his cigarette falling to the ground, forgotten.

Maes felt like a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he'd finally told Jean how he felt and what he wanted, the one thing that he had been too nervous to say for all these years.

Jean blushed furiously, his cheek bones bright red with embarrassment as he sat on his superior's lap, "but we're in Colonel Mustang's house! And-and we're both men! What about your wife and daughter? And wait, counting on me falling in love with you!?"

Maes' grin spread across his face, a Cheshire cat grin, feeling weightless with all of the secrets pouring out of him, "Well you see, Gracia is my sister"

Jeans eyes widened, shock, disbelief, confusion, and disgust showing through his non-existent poker face, craning his neck to look at the other man. "YOU MARRIED YOUR SISTER!?" cried Jean, clearly having misunderstood what Maes had been trying to say. "And that means Elicia is-"

"What? No! NO! That's disgusting! We were never really married! Elicia is Gracia's ex-husband's daughter. He was giving her trouble so she left him and moved in with me, and when Elicia was born I asked her to stay. Don't tell me you never noticed that she looks nothing like me? Anyway, people assumed we were married and that Elicia was mine, and Gracia has always been embarrassed about her past, so we let them. Okay? God I can't believe you thought I'd married my sister." finished Maes, hoping desperately that the younger man had understood.

"Oh." Was all Jean said, shoulders sagging with relief, still seated in the lap of the Lieutenant Colonel.


"Yeah. Oh."

"… so then, shall we redeem my favour?" inquired Maes, pulling the conversation, if it could be called that, back on track, and leaning forward to plant a small kiss on the side of Jean's neck.

"I-I-but this is Colonel Mustang's-what if he-?" flustered Jean, cutting off abruptly as the older man slid his hand down to grope his young colleague, eliciting a gasp of shocked pleasure.

"Don't worry about the Colonel, he won't be back tonight, of that you can be certain." He assured the other man, easily lifting him up as he stood and spinning him so that their chests pressed together, smiling as Jean's legs automatically wrapped around his waist, and walked down the hallway to Roy's bedroom, ignoring the fragmented protests of the younger man. There was no way Roy would come back home tonight and risk finding his best friend and subordinate in bed together.

Maes plopped Jean down onto Roy's bed, pushing him onto his back, hands planted on either side of his head. He slid his leg in between Jean's, brushing against his arousal, rewarded with a gasp, and relishing in the sound.

Jean was conflicted. Sure he'd seen Hughes in the corridor and noted that he happened to be in excellent physical shape for a paper shuffler. Sure he'd looked into his greeny golden eyes and understood why he might be popular with the ladies, but never had he even considered the possibility that he, Jean Havoc, could possibly look at another man that way. However, as he lay there he did look at Hughes that way; his long dark eyelashes, intense yet oddly mischievous eyes, the way his lips curved to form a beautiful smile. Wow, "beautiful"? Really? Did Jean Havoc, ladies' man of the year, or so he dreamt, really just call another man beautiful? And while he was being pinned down by him to boot! Honestly, if he were going to think like that, surely the words sexy or devilish or some other kinky word should have popped into his head! But not with Hughes! No! Hughes had to be beautiful! Jesus H. Christ, what a fine mess he was in.

Suddenly he awakened to reality; he stared into those eyes again, feeling bare beneath the man's gaze. Maes had such a peculiar look on his face, as though he could almost read the other man's thoughts, yet couldn't figure out the meaning behind the words.

His face reddened with humiliation Havoc realised the reason; his face was completely open, his expressions flowing straight from his thoughts to his face. Beautiful! He'd been thinking Maes beautiful while the other analysed him! Ugh, If only he'd spent more time practicing his poker face.

"Back to here and now, are we?" chirped Maes, and though his face still showed signs of confusion, his tone was light.

"Ah, oh yeah, sorry I-um… well, I guess I kinda' spaced out there a bit, huh?"

"So it would seem" breathed Maes, his voice suddenly no more than a whisper as he leaned closer to Jean until their noses almost touched. Maes held that position, waiting for a response from the younger man.

Maes' leg still teased the blond man's growing erection.

"Uh-M-Maes, I don't think- I mean I'm not sure… I mean we're both men! I don't understand what's happening!" babbled Jean.

"Yes! We are both men! And real men come through on their promises." Countered Maes with a smirk, thankful of the opportunity to remind Jean of their deal.

Jean startled, seeming to remember all previous events of the night, his expression drew tight.

Lucky for Maes, Havoc was, like Roy, a good, honourable man. A man of his word.

Maes closed the space between their faces; however Jean had sensed his movement and turned his head just in time to turn the kiss into a peck on the cheek. Perhaps Maes was the larger, stronger man, but few could rival Jean's reflexes.

"Look I-" Jean started, but was cut off abruptly.

"Please. Please just say yes or no. I wouldn't…" Maes' voice cracked on the last word, "I wouldn't… rape you. I could never hurt you that way, so please. Just give it to me straight."

Jean had been taken aback at the word "rape", such a harsh word sounded incredibly out of place on Hughes' lips, and was no doubt incredibly hard to say, but Maes had said it, and the word echoed through their memories like the clang of a cymbal in an empty room.

Maes watched as the fire drained from Jean's expression, leaving behind a dim hint of resignation.

God, honourable men were just too easy to manipulate, but that's probably what had attracted Maes in the first place.

Jean's pride simply wouldn't allow him to back out on a fair deal. He had lost the poker game, and somehow become the bad guy in all this; now he would have to face the consequences. Well at least Maes was handsome, that was certainly better than nothing.

Jean's lashes lifted as he looked Maes squarely in the face; they then promptly shut tight as he heaved a sigh, and quickly closed the space between their faces to kiss his captor.

The kiss was abrupt, and teeming with uncertainty, but as they parted Jean could see the joy within Maes' beautiful eyes… Jesus Christ! Now I'm thinking his eyes are beautiful as well!? Scolded Havoc silently.

"So you think my eyes are beautiful?" enquired Hughes of his flustering captive.

"…Please tell me that wasn't out loud."

Maes smirked, "certainly loud enough for me to hear."

"God, how cliché," mumbled Jean, the humiliation warring with amusement for control over his face. The humiliation won out as Maes leaned forward for another kiss, his leg shifting against Jean's crotch, creating a distracting friction. By this time Jean had gathered his wits, and met Maes half way, awkwardly memorising the feel of the older man's warm lips against his.

Cautiously Jean wrapped his arms around the older man's neck, slowly sitting up, feeling Maes' beard scrape against his face at the shift in position; in turn Maes circled the smaller man with his arms, feeling the lean muscles of Jean's back flex and ripple. The prickle of Maes' beard tickled him as the older man smiled, or perhaps smirked at the change of attitude.

Warily, Maes slipped his tongue between the others lips, treating the blond as though he were a scared animal, coaxing him into security; he gave a gratified purr as the younger man's lips parted to make way for him. Maes could feel the tiny tremor of Jean's lips… or perhaps it was his own he could feel; nothing seemed individual anymore. Jean's body, his voice, his scent, merged with his own, until the two were impossible to define as separate entities.

The air smelled of Tabaco and arousal, sweat and liquor, one day old bed sheets and the faintest hint of cardboard. It seemed to Jean that his senses had been heightened, yet restricted. All he could hear, smell, touch or see, was himself and Maes, and the scene they created. Stupid really, that he should be speculating this after only a few kisses and some groping. The phrase "kisses and groping" pulled him up short. Is that all that has transpired today? "Kisses and groping"? Could everything I've felt and learned today really be boiled down to such a coarse phrase, so lacking in the eloquence these actions deserve?

Trapped within his reverie, Jean failed to notice the halt of the very same actions he so thought about.

"Hey…" whispered Maes, his lips tickling the hollow beneath Jean's ear, "You okay?"

Jean swallowed, "yeah… just fine" he whispered back, afraid to break the quiet with a louder volume.

His resolve hardened then; if this were actually going to happen, which judging from the position and lack of any resistance, it was a safe it was, then Jean certainly wasn't going to be a lifeless rag doll, forcing Maes to do all the work for little reward. It may be that he would be the submissive, but Jean Havoc is no rag doll.

Once again Jean surfaced to reality, surprised to find that apparently his body had continued with a mind of its own.

"Maes" He growled seductively. Maes looked up at this, slightly shocked at the blond man's ability to create such a deep, sexy rumble; looking at him Maes had thought Jean would be the cuter kitten mews, but apparently not.

Jean plucked at the buttons of Maes' shirt, taking his time as he unhooked them one by one, until none remained fastened. Jean slipped his hands beneath the fabric, sliding it over Maes' broad chest until it slid down his strong arms to land on the floor. The heat radiating from Maes' body dimmed in comparison to the heat accumulating in the smaller man's face.

Jean reached for Maes' slacks, fumbling the button and taking hold of the zipper; Jean leisurely pulled, taking his time, letting each click echo through the room; when Jean reached the end of the zip, Maes covered his hand with his own, halting the movement. There was no way he was going to relinquish every shred of clothing if his partner were still wearing every shred of his.

Maes lifted his arms, pushing the high collared jacket off Jean's shoulders, listening to the fabric rustle as it slid from the blond to the bed. Maes slipped his hands beneath Jean's T-shirt, running his hands along the smooth skin of his abdomen, higher and higher; Jean lifted his arms, allowing Maes to pull the cloth over his head until it dropped from his wrists to fall beside the jacket.

Maes leant down and kissed Jean's shoulder, trailing feather light kisses downward until he reached the band of cloth at Jean's waist. Gently, he unhooked the button and pulled the zip down, creating a V of white where Jean's underwear peeked through.

As Maes finished his kisses he slid to the ground, leaving Jean seated on the bed. Gently he pulled Jean's jeans from his body, shuddering inwardly as the blond lifted his hips to make way for the denim, tugging each leg until it fell to the ground with a soft swish.

Jean squirmed as Maes eyed the bulge in his underwear, feeling uncomfortable; Maes, perceptive as always, noticed this and shucked off his own pants and underwear until he was completely bare, levelling the playing field. He hooked his two index fingers inside the waistband of Jean's underwear, skimming his fingers along Jean's legs as he slid the article from his body.

They sat like that for a moment, staring at each other. Maes was once again surprised when Jean was the one to break the stillness, as the smaller man leant down for a kiss, gently pulling Maes up and lying back, until both men were completely on the bed, Jean on his back beneath Maes, who knelt over him.

Jean's face had turned an interesting shade of red, but his expression was set: nervous but certain, as he looked into Maes eyes and gave a single nod.

Maes reached for the bottle of lubricant that he'd strategically placed to the side while Roy was phoning Havoc. He squeezed the substance onto his fingers, allowing it to warm before moving his fingers to Jeans rear, and positioning them at his pucker.

Carefully, he slid a single finger inside, his heartbeat picking up as the appendage was enveloped in an intense heat.

Jean's breath quickened slightly, as he lightly bit his lip; it wasn't a painful sensation at all, more of an uncomfortable intrusion than anything else. He could feel Maes' eyes on him, probably trying to see if there was any pain yet, but Jean couldn't look him in the eyes yet; he was far too bright a shade of red for that to be possible any time soon.

Maes could see that Jean wasn't in pain, and slowly, slower than before, slid another finger inside of his colleague. It was tighter with two fingers; Jean could feel the beginning of a slight sting, but nothing particularly painful at this stage either. What worried him was what was to come: Maes was quite well endowed, and two or three fingers didn't really seem like they'd be enough. Jean reached up with his hands, placing them on Hughes shoulders, though not as a sign to stop.

Jean was pulled from his thoughts as he felt the two fingers move, scissoring slowly, and widening the distance between each finger more each time, stretching him little by little. Jean could feel his lower extremities hardening at the attention. Sure the feeling wasn't exactly orgasmic, but the comforting feel of Maes' hands as he rubbed against the sensitive flesh was more than enough to reassure Jean in his decision; and enough to create a pleasant anticipation.

Maes added a third finger; it slid in easily after the previous administrations. Jean felt a sharper sting as the fingers spread, again stretching him, this time to a less pleasant degree. Maes could feel the quiet tension building in the smaller man, but could also see the strength in Jean's eyes. If Jean wanted him to stop he would, but to insinuate that Jean was fragile, was an insult he wasn't willing to give.

Maes considered the job finished when Jean was stretched enough to have relaxed even with three fingers inside of him. He slid the fingers out, using the lubricant that remained to slick up a larger, more formidable appendage. He could feel Jean's eyes on him as he moved between the blond man's legs, lining himself up with Jean's opening.

The tip of Maes' length pushed through the first ring of muscle, pushing deeper until he was fully seated inside the smaller man.

The heat encompassing Maes was intoxicating. All he wanted to do was move: to create the friction that would send them both over the edge, but he held himself together, hiding his thoughts so not to bully Jean into anything.

Jean wasn't in any pain at all. It was a strange sensation, having something so deep inside of him, slightly uncomfortable, giving the demanding excitement of anticipation. He looked up, sensing the chocolate eyes of his superior. Maes' eyes held poorly concealed pleading, a hint of desperation at the edges, held together with a gentleman's patience. Apparently Maes' poker face didn't hold so well under these kinds of circumstances.

This time it was Jean's turn to smirk, smug with the knowledge that Maes Hughes was completely in his hands. The sense of power was overwhelming.

Jean's arms slid from Maes' shoulders to wrap around his neck. Jean gently pulled, meeting Maes half way for a kiss, taking his time. He pulled away, meeting Maes' eyes, suddenly confident. His eyes said it all… either that or Maes lost his self-control, because suddenly they were moving.

His legs lifted to wrap around Maes' waist, his lower body airborne, with his shoulders and back supporting him. He reached down to touch himself, since Maes' was apparently concentrating on other things. Firmly he began to stroke himself in time to Maes' thrusts. The rhythm was strong and steady, a constant beat.

Maes' could tell whenever he hit Jean's prostate, because the younger man writhed beneath him, his insides spasming, letting a strangled gasp escape him each time. The idea excited him, that he could bring Jean such ecstasy with a single thrust at the right angle.

They were both panting, their bodies glistening with sweat. Maes' fingers dug into Jean's hips, and Jean relied heavily on Maes' broad shoulders. They clung to each other, caught up in their passion.

No words were exchanged; all that could be heard were their pants, moans, and gasps, mixed with the rustle of sheets, and the quiet creak of Roy's bed.

Their pace picked up, Maes could see the desire on the blond soldier's face, his head tossed back, eyes shut, and mouth wide with sounds of pleasure.

Jean was close now, he could feel the heat pooling in his abdomen, begging for release. Maes' thrusts were becoming more and more erratic, as he too drew closer to the edge. Still he powered on, adamant on finishing on a high note. The note was hit with Jean's prostate; he let himself go as he felt Jean spasm, riding the waves of his orgasm to the end, vaguely noticing a warm splatter hit his chest.

Jean let his head drop onto the pillow, panting, his eyes hooded. Maes slid out from within him, moving to lie on his back next to him, their heads turned to face each other.

He could feel his eyes slipping as he forced his mind to stay conscious, a sleepy smile adorning his face.

Suddenly they heard a car engine growl in the driveway, both men froze, eyes wide; the sound of the engine then slowly disappeared, taking with it a very drunk Roy Mustang, who had just remembered why he'd left in the first place.

Maes' gave the softest chuckle, sliding closer to wrap his arms around the blond man, planting a kiss on his shoulder, and snuggling in for some sleep.

Okay, I would just like to say that I am SOOOOOO sorry! I know I said the second chapter would be out soon, but I took forever to write this :( I was completely fine until it came to anything sexual, and then I was struck with writer's block :/

Also, Roy wasn't drink driving, never you fear! One of the girls from the bar drove him home… and then back to the bar again ^^

Anyway, regardless of whether you hate me or not, I'd love it if you reviewed, I'm really happy with how this fic came out, and I'd love to hear what you thought. Negative criticism and pointers are whole heartedly accepted also! ^^

And as always, if you find any spelling errors, no matter how small, please let me know, I hate having mistakes in my work. Thankyou!