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07 March 2008 @ 08:36 pm
[DRABBLES] 15 Jean/Roy Challenge Drabbles, 15/15, Fullmetal Alchemist  
Title: 15 Jean/Roy Challenge Drabbles
Author: Daeleniel Shadowphyre
Feedback: darkone2813 @ mindspring.com
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Drama, Angst, Romance
Rating: G through R
Pairing: Jean Havoc/Roy Mustang
Summary: Fifteen snapshots of a romance that spans two military careers.
Warnings: Standard Shadowphyre Warnings apply.
Disclaimer: FullMetal Alchemist and related characters and themes belong to Arakawa Hiromu, Square Enix, and Funimation. This is a non-profit work of fiction.
Notes: Finally finished. Real Life has a habit of smacking me down on a semi-regular basis, so the drabble challenges that raja815 gave me took a bit longer to write than I thought they would. I had them half done at New Year's, I swear! So, here they are, in their entirety. Read them in the order they are posted, not the order they are numbered.
Dedication: To Sangria-- for being my ridiculously affectionate beta reader.
Distribution: Ask, and ye shall receive.

4. "Battle Dress Uniform"

The jacket was rumpled from having been worn long hours or crumpled into a make-shift pillow when it was safe to catch a few minutes of badly needed sleep.

The pants were likewise rumpled and stained with mud, crisp lines long since smoothed out by marching, running, kneeling, and fighting.

The boots were scuffed and dull from days, weeks of marching, of walking through puddles of mud and other things best left unmentioned, no longer spit-shined to the point of reflection.

Major Mustang made no comment on the state of Sergeant Havoc's uniform and saluted the nervous blond. "Carry on."

3. "The Taste of Ashes"

"You know smoking is bad for you," Major Roy Mustang said offhandedly as the young Sergeant tapped out a cigarette from the pack.

"Gonna kill me nice and slow if I live through this, Sir," Sergeant Jean Havoc agreed with a touch of gallows humour in his voice. Roy frowned, puzzled.

"If you know, then why do you do it?"

Havoc was silent for a long moment, rolling the cigarette around between his fingers. Finally, he said, "If I taste the cigarette smoke, I'm not tasting anything else."

Silently, Roy raised his gloved hand and lit the cigarette for him.

5. "Slowly Spreading Warmth"

It was a single point of contact. It was just a hand on his shoulder, really. It shouldn't feel so good, Roy thought, nor should it mean so much.

He sat in the dark of the tent, just staring at his hands as the taller man sat down beside him, both of them silent. Roy could feel the heat from Jean's hand penetrating through his uniform jacket, reaching out to the cold of Roy's skin, of the cracked and splintered ice around his heart.

And Roy silently leaned sideways against Jean's warm chest as the ice melted into quiet rain.

11. "Blue"

He looked good in blue.

The standard-issue military uniform was just about the only thing he ever saw the man in. Indeed, it was a running joke that only blonds and Roy Mustang truly looked good in that uniform.

The first time Roy ever saw Jean Havoc out of uniform was an accident. He was getting ready to meet a date and had changed into black slacks and a deep, royal blue button-down shirt. It took a stunned Roy Mustang several minutes to pick his jaw up off the floor. Jean didn't just look good in blue.

He was beautiful.

2. "Allergy"

The pendant and chain had been silver, originally. It was all Jean could afford, and Roy had smiled as his lover put it around his neck.

The first signs weren't obvious. An odd twitch, a tenseness in the shoulders and around the eyes. The aborted movements toward his neck that made no sense to anyone but one sharp-eyed blond.

The redness around his lover's neck that he found late one night led to Jean having a quiet, desperate word with a blond alchemist the next day, the "borrowed" silver pendant in hand.

The pendant was platinum when it was returned.

1. "Rifle Callus"

There was a rough patch of skin on Jean's right shoulder, nearly four inches in length. It wasn't a scar; Roy knew all too well what scars looked like on his lover, but it tasted like one on his tongue, rough and thick and hard like armour. When he'd asked in the aftermath, Jean had gone quiet, then laughed and kissed him and Roy hadn't mentioned it again.

It wasn't until Roy joined Jean at the range and watched the blond settle the butt of his rifle easily against his shoulder that he understood what kind of scar it was.

10. "Dry Earth"

When he slept alone, his dreams were of a barren field. Dry. Cracked. Broken. It stretched out as far as his eye could see in every direction, hundred of thousands of jigsaw-puzzle plates of not-quite-clay. Sometimes - not often - he would bend down and touch one of the plates, watching it crumble into dust beneath his fingertips before the horrors of memory it housed were unleashed.

When Jean slept with him, his dreams were of a lush, dense forest. Damp. Green. Growing. And there was Jean, right there beside him, in his arms, keeping him safe for another night.

9. "Pulsepoint"

It was one of his most sensitive spots, a secret he guarded closely. Only one other person knew about it, and that was the way Roy liked it, thank you very much. No one else needed to know that he would melt into a puddle of relaxed happiness when That Spot was touched.

Still, even though it was the middle of a really bad day while surrounded by the rest of the office staff, when Jean came up behind him, arms around his waist, and kissed the pulse point beneath his left ear softly, all Roy could do was smile.

8. "Rank Insignia"

The dress uniform was his own.

The stars and stripes on the jacket's shoulder boards, however, were not.

Jean had never thought that he would wear the rank insignia of a Brigadier General, certainly not at so young an age. He wasn't an alchemist like Roy, and so didn't have that springboard up in rank that came with being a State Alchemist.

And speaking of his lover...

"I await your orders, General," First Lieutenant Mustang said with a textbook perfect salute.

As Jean opened his mouth to answer, he reflected that Roy's being kinky like this certainly made sex interesting.

6. "Matching Set of Scars"

He'd lost much of his depth perception when he'd lost his eye. It was harder to judge distances than it was before, harder to tell exactly where something was. That, more than anything, was what kept him from using his alchemy.

The rifle had been issued to him when he went north. When he wasn't on patrol, he practiced with it, kneeling in the snow and aiming at a tree. Firearms weren't his strong point, but he was getting better.

At night, he brushed his fingers across four inches of roughened skin on his shoulder and didn't think of Jean.

7. "Whiskey"

His grandfather had taught him how to make whiskey back on the farm, using a mix of grains they grew in the fields, malted, and distilled three times in special vats his grandfather tended to like children.

The last batch of whiskey Jean helped his grandfather make was right before he joined the military. The barrels were stored, stamped, and forgotten about for the twenty years until Jean returned home and remembered.

It tasted like liquid fire, was smooth as silk going down, and it took all of Jean's will not to break down because it tasted just like Roy.

12. "Confiscated Letter"

One of the drawbacks to outposts was that mail of any kind took a very long time to get there. Roy knew that they stored it up and delivered it once a month, but it still meant he was left waiting for any letters even longer than it could have been.

He wasn't expecting the Private who delivered the mail that month to hand him an official envelope with a memo typed on military stationary.

"By order of Lieutenant Reginald Marsh, all correspondence directed to Corporal Roy Mustang has been confiscated pending investigation and interview due to suspicions of conspiracy."

13. "Codename"

'"Dear Roy. It’s been two and a half years. I miss you more than I can say. Every little thing reminds me of what we began, and I can't help but want to see it through with you. Please come home. All my love. Jacqueline."'

Corporal Mustang didn't even flinch at the rather mocking recitation of the letter addressed to him. Deprived of his fun at Mustang's expense, Lieutenant Marsh tossed the letter at him with a sneer. 'Another of your little whores, Mustang?' It was a dismissal.

'No, sir,' Roy murmured as he sketched a crisp salute and left.

15. "Secret Touches"

They faced each other in the hall. Two summer sky blue eyes met the single coal black eye for a long moment. Two bodies clad in the military blue uniform - one with the rank of Major, the other a newly reinstated Brigadier General - stood ramrod straight, tense and uncertain. The brunet's eye flickered. The blond's fingers twitched.

'Good to have you back, Sir.'

'Good to be back.'

They saluted at the same time, and stepped neatly around each other, each on their respective way. No one noticed their left hands brush lightly against one another as they passed.

14. "Sweat-soaked"

He had reported to the Central HQ office for his review after the "alien attack" as scheduled. However, General Hakuro had not been the one waiting for him. A single dark eye pierced through him with a calm calculation he hadn't seen in a very long time. Beside the desk, a familiar blond in SpecOps black stood, methodically loading a gun. He could feel sweat blooming over his brow and between his shoulderblades, soaking his uniform. He swallowed.

'Have a seat, Lieutenant.'

Lieutenant Reginald Marsh sat.

Major Jean Havoc slid the clip home with a click.

General Roy Mustang smiled.

Crossposted to fm_alchemist, fma_yaoi, havoc_fan_club, and shadowphyx.
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