Woohoo, more 7 Snogs challenges, this time for Havoc/Roy. Enjoy! I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Colonel Roy Mustang was not a smoker. Jean Havoc, his Second Lieutenant, simply didn't not smoke; it was his signature quality and Roy often heard new recruits and transfers referring to the blond as "the Second Lieutenant that smokes" until proper names and politeness were learned.
Roy hated the smell of the tobacco burning; he hated the smell of anything burning, as it was always the same in the end. Death, the end of whatever was engulfed by the flames, and Roy watched the spent ashes drop from the end of Havoc's cigarette and all but crumble as they fell to the soft earth beneath their feet, returning to the soil from whence they came.
Everything died eventually, with the pattern of sunrise and sunset. Everything returned to its origin, and as Roy kneeled down to tug the slightly overgrown grass away from the tombstone of his best friend, Brigadier General Maes Hughes, it was even more startling than before, to once again realized that one day everyone he had ever known would be dead.
He scowled and tugged on a particularly stubborn clump of grass. The graveyard keeper obviously hadn't been doing his job.
"Hey, Chief," Havoc muttered softly, placing his hand on the smaller man's shoulder, "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine, Havoc," he responded, giving a sigh and getting back onto his feet.
"If you say so," the Second Lieutenant murmured, dropping the cigarette to the ground and crushing it underfoot.
"One day, we'll both have to die," Roy muttered, and Jean cocked an eyebrow in question.
"Of course, Chief."
"Sometimes I worry that my life will end like Hughes's did."
"Don't say that," Havoc frowned, "If you worry about death when you're alive you'll never really live."
Mustang gave a weak smile and let Havoc gently place his arm around his shoulders.
"I suppose you're right."
"Of course I am," Havoc smirked and pressed a soft kiss to the top of Roy's head.
Roy Mustang hated the smell of the burning tobacco, but he couldn't bring himself to mind the taste and tilted his chin up obediently when Jean leaned down to kiss him and filled his mouth with the dry taste of the cheap brand of cigarettes he chose to smoke; a stark contrast to the warm wet of his tongue pressing insistently against Roy's.
When they broke away, Roy cast one final look back to his friend's grave and took Jean's hand.
"Let's go home, it's getting late."
Jean couldn't bring himself to refuse the offer when Roy reached into his chest pocket, tugged out a cigarette and help it up for Havoc to hold between his lips, just as Roy couldn't bring himself to mind when Havoc reached into his coat pocket and extracted a white glove.
Mustang tugged the glove on and smirked.
"Any time you're ready, Chief," the Second Lieutenant gave a lopsided smile.
The Colonel snapped his fingers.
END
That was for my friend, Spades 44. You rock, hon, and don't let anyone tell you otherwise.
