No one was online; I wanted to do something... many more excuses that result in the kinky, smutty drabble ficlet I produced. I swear, Kimblee, be a dear and be more wordy; don't loose your breath so fast like that. And, Taisa, stop being a kinky bastard to my muse for once, jeebus. ♥
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: Work and Play
Pairing: Frank Archer x Zolf J. Kimblee
Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist anime was based off the manga series by Hiromu Arakawa-sensei. It is also © Square Enix/Aniplex/FUNimation.
Rating: NC-17 aka NOT WORK SAFE! (You've been warned, damn it; approach with CAUTION)
Notes: Merf. I was sick (and still am) and bored when I wrote this... and watching old sub FMA episodes with orange juice and a chocolate bar. That's my kind of inspiration. Also, I think this would take place around maybe... sometime after episode 34; after Kimblee gets reinstated and Archer is promoted to Colonel status. No actual spoilers, though. By the way, the cut-off text? Totally random and has nothing to do with the fic, but briefly inspired by HavocxRoy-ness and sub/dub (whichever you watch or prefer) Episode 51.
Warnings: Kimblee's mouth, Archer's pervy-ness, gun-kink, man-smex
Summary: Just a pretty random drabble; Archer apparently gets bored with work and asks Kimblee if he's up for some fun. Yay for distractions by the work-aholic!
Word Count: 870 (Short porn, neh?)
At first, the Lieutenant Colonel had been reluctant; said that his superior was madder than he was if he thought he’d let him put that inside of him, but, after a little convincing, he found himself here.
Kimblee was shakily positioned beneath his superior, legs spread and twitching, and small beads of sweat gracing his features. He wasn’t sure if he was feeling extreme disgust or anticipation at his actions, but he was sure he was somewhat fearful.
“Relax.” Archer’s cool voice commanded, fingers pressing and stretching within Kimblee, trying to prepare him for his prized possession.
Kimblee only nodded, biting down on his lip to stifle a moan as he felt the invading digits gently press against him at the right spot.
In the blur of his vision, the Crimson alchemist focused on the gun in his superior’s hand. It was obviously one of Frank’s more beloved weapons; finely polished, barrel seeming to shine despite the lack of light in the office, the man’s own name embellished in the cool steel. He didn’t have much time to wonder over the remainder of the gun’s exterior as it disappeared down between his thighs just as Archer claimed his lips firmly.
His eyes widened briefly as the metal penetrated him, squirming to adjust to strange material as it was slowly pressed deeper for that very purpose. The Bomber let out a reluctant, soft whine into the kiss and Archer made sure he could swallow it, then raided the wet, luscious cavern with his tongue.
The Colonel moved his free hand behind his alchemist enough to pull at the tie holding back the long mane of hair, tossing it off to the side as his fingers combed through the soft spikes demandingly, pulling the other closer.
Crimson hardly noticed this and only focused on the strange object punishing his ass as the pace of the thrusts quickened, pressing much deeper than the last. He gasped as it brushed against him at the right angle, legs frantically wrapping around the other’s waist, hands clenched in Archer’s military shirt, trying to grasp something stable.
“F-Fuck…” He breathed when Archer finally released his lips, thrusts becoming as erratic as Kimblee’s breathing as if to match the tempo.
Archer smirked appreciatively and took a sudden interest in the way Kimblee had draped himself around him for support. His smirk only broadened as he began to grind their hips together, earning a moan out of Zolf at the unexpected contact.
“Damnit… ah… f-fuck…” Kimblee could hardly speak anymore, too overcome with pleasure. “D-Don’t.. nn… stop you.. ahh.. goddamn bastard..!”
Archer licked his lips hungrily at the words that came from his lover’s mouth, quickening the pace of the thrusts, rocking his hips compliantly. “Mm.. I don’t intend to.” He confirmed.
Crimson started to feel himself letting go, allowing the heat to rush down between his thighs. He locked his gaze with the Colonel, golden orbs beautifully slitting as he came before the artic blue that took full view of the sight, almost like an explosion seen from the eyes of a willing spectator.
Kimblee lazily slumped against Archer, reduced to little moans and whimpers as Archer continued to enjoy the feeling of his bomber. The gun’s holder bit into Kimblee’s shoulder before his lips claimed him once again, silencing what little sound he might have made as he gave the gun one last deep thrust into the tight heat and a finishing rock of the hips as he came just as spectacularly as Zolf.
The two rested back against the wall rather than the desk, panting and sweating with cool of the white mess between them, for Archer had no intention of making Kimblee uncomfortable as he thought he would be with chairs after this whole session of gunplay.
They stayed quiet all but the sounds of their erratic breathing that they tried to silence as well, attempting to relax and return breath into their needy lungs. It was Archer who broke the silence first.
“So… now do you like my… little idea?”
Kimblee seemed to hitch in his breathing for a moment, sounding like he was either surprised by the sudden awkward sound of his superior’s voice or angered by being proved wrong like this. “…I’d… I’d have to feel it again to be sure… you… moron.” He hissed between breaths, finding himself relaxing somewhat against Archer.
“Hm…I‘ll take that as a yes.” Archer murmured heatedly. “We’ll do it again sometime, then.” The already present flush that displayed itself on his alchemist’s face intensified despite the said alchemist’s reluctance.
“..F-Fine… but…” Kimblee breathed again, sighing a little hoarsely as he attempted to relax against his lover completely. “If I.. Get a real annoying… pain.. I’m not doing this again.”
Archer chuckled a little, letting his hands hold his alchemist to himself in an embrace after he had carefully pulled the metal out and reintroduced it to its holster, a loving embrace of course, but neither would admit it was.
“If you say so, Zolf.” Archer murmured again, carrying his alchemist with himself to the office’s currently luxurious couch, so that they could both get some well-needed sleep for the next day of their work and play.
Cross-posted to: golfballs, fm_alchemist, fmalchemist, fma_fanfic, and _deadlyweapons_ (feel free to notify me of other places to whore it XD)