Written for the FMA Slashfest on Livejournal, with the prompt:

Roy/Havoc (Manga/Brotherhood): Stood up and drunk, the guys find fun with each other.

Thank you to Kalira69 for checking it over for me!

Note: this is the toned-down version of the story for FFN. The original version is available on LJ and AO3. Though I really didn't have to tone it down that much. Just omitted a few words/phrases.


Smoke and Brandy


Jean Havoc leaned against the balcony rail of Mustang's newest living quarters. Brigadier General Mustang, he grinned and shook his head at the thought, rolling the lit cigarette between his fingers before bringing it up to his lips. It was surreal to think Roy'd made it so far at last. As equally surreal as it was that they were both here, having drunk far more than one too many beers. Somehow, they'd both ended up at the same bar. Dateless. Not for lack of making dates, but rather because their dates had not shown up.

Havoc was used to being stood up. Roy... not so much. They'd been drunk and bored and it'd been ages since they hung out... and two hours and a bit of coffee later, Havoc still wasn't sure why he'd ended up here. On Roy's balcony. His bare toes curled, pressing against the cool tile. It was still a sensation he relished, being able to actually feel sensation beneath his feet.

He was only in Central for a couple weeks, hunting down some of the special goods the Havoc General Store would supply for certain ... clients. Then he had to head back east, back to his parent's. He'd decided not to re-enlist after regaining his legs; they weren't as reliable as before, and some days he needed a cane. They were already aching tonight, he would soon need to sit down. Jean couldn't complain, though. It was better than when all the doctors had thought he'd never walk again.

And Roy'd found having another civilian working quietly with him was invaluable.

Jean took a deep drag, exhaled, and blurted out, "You ever been with a guy before, chief?"

Roy, standing to his right and close enough their shoulders almost brushed, made a strangled noise. Havoc wasn't quite sure why he'd asked that question, except for a lingering curiosity in the back of his mind that he'd never quite been able to shake. And he must still be drunk.

And then, to his surprise, Roy chuckled. "Yeah, I have. I prefer guys, actually."

Havoc did a double-take, turning - very carefully - to look at Roy. "Then why'd you steal my girlfriends all the time?"

Roy shrugged. "Had to have a cover. You also had a knack for hooking up with the Madam's girls, and they're practically my sisters. That would have just been..." Roy trailed off.

Havoc's throat went dry. "Been what?"

"Awkward." Roy's voice was very quiet.

"How come?"

Roy turned and touched his right hand against the back of Havoc's right shoulder, leaning in to whisper into his ear. "Because I draw the line at seducing a person one of my sisters has slept with."

Roy's breath wafted over his ear, and he almost dropped the cigarette. Warmth washed over him. "S-se-seducing, huh?" Havoc's voice cracked. How long had Roy wanted him?

A hand settled against his left hip. Roy's body pressed up against his back. Havoc took a deep, shuddering breath. Roy's thumbs moved in slow, pressing circles. Wet heat closed over an earlobe. Groaning, Havoc crushed the lit end of the cigarette on the balcony rail. It wouldn't do to drop it into the bushes below. Even if the Flame Alchemist was right behind him.

Roy pulled away from his earlobe with a quiet 'pop'. "I know you're curious. You wouldn't have asked about me and guys, otherwise."

Havoc didn't move. Not yet. But he didn't pull away from the other man either. "Yes." He clenched his hands around the rail, fighting off the nerves. "I'm curious."

The alchemist hummed lightly, hands starting to move. His left arm wrapped around Havoc's waist and pulled him back against him. His right hand traveled up Havoc's shoulder, to his neck, and traced around the rim of his ear.

"How curious?" Roy asked.

Havoc took another deep breath. Roy was obviously amenable. Even if he'd never felt another man pressed against him quite like this, there was only one thing that could be nudging against his ass. But... he wasn't sure he wanted to go that far. Not yet.

But he did want some satisfaction. He'd been out trying to have a date for a reason.

Bolstering his nerves, Havoc twisted in Roy's arms. "Curious enough," he whispered, and pressed his mouth against Mustang's. Jean's eyes fell shut. Roy's hand moved down from his ear to cup the back of his head.

Lips caressed, then parted.

Roy tasted like smoke and brandy. Not tobacco smoke, but smoke from a smoldering fire, with the searing heat of coals moving against Jean's tongue.

Havoc couldn't help but moan and clutch at Roy's hip.

Their mouths separated, lips moist and slightly chafed. Jean wasn't brave enough to open his eyes yet, but Roy's breath still brushed over his lips, warm and far too fleeting.

"Jean," Roy murmured. "Tell me what you want."

Havoc opened his eyes. The other man's face was still close to his, and Jean's fingers automatically flexed on his hip as he stared at the bridge of Roy's nose to avoid looking in his eyes. What did he want?

All he knew was that for years he had obscure dreams, random fantasies, always about Mustang. There was something about his voice, his presence, that was alluring. And tonight, the rum - Jean had never developed a taste for brandy, except on Roy's tongue, evidently - was affecting him just enough to not care. He finally met Roy's eyes.

Havoc felt like a moth being drawn to flame, and that metaphor was all too perfect for this.

He just didn't want to be burned.

But he wanted to feel the warmth.

"I don't want... intercourse," Jean blurted, then felt heat flood his face. His knees were starting to ache. Is that even the right word?

Roy chuckled and smoothed his hands over Havoc's back. "There are plenty of things to do besides that."

Jean's mouth went dry, and he shivered at Roy's touch. For a moment, he couldn't speak, or think, or breathe, and if anyone had ever told him, even just a month ago, that he'd be looking forward to a night of groping without penetration - with a man, with Mustang, of all people - he would have scoffed.

Roy's insistent mouth pressed against his again, coaxing and stirring, and he couldn't help but grunt when teeth nipped at his lower lip. Jean let his hands wander up from Roy's hips, around the front of his slacks, and one hand curled around the belt buckle, while the other brushed up the row of buttons on his shirt.

Roy broke the kiss with a gasp. "We should... go inside. Get off the balcony."

"Yeah." Jean was still breathless, panting, and pulled Roy back down for another kiss as soon as they were over the threshold with the door closed behind them.

He really wasn't sure how time elapsed after that as he quickly ignited under Roy's touch.

They didn't make it to the bedroom, but the couch was soft and comfortable and bounced lightly when Roy pushed Jean down onto it. Roy was obviously eager for this, if Jean could trust how he moaned when his tongue was sucked and lightly bitten.

"So how long you been wantin' this?" Jean gasped when their mouths were finally apart for more than a few seconds.

Roy's fingers moved deftly down the front of Jean's shirt, pausing only briefly to brush over the scar in the middle of his torso. "Years, Jean."

Jean stilled. "Years? How come you never said nothin'?"

"Because I thought you were as straight as an axle, Jean." Roy pressed a kiss to Jean's throat. "You were - are? - obsessed with breasts. Big ones."

"Yeah, I guess I would'a come across that way." Hell, he thought he was completely straight. Until he'd gone back home, and Mustang hadn't been continually pissing him off by stealing his girls. Then the... fantasies had bombarded him.

Jean wasn't quite sure what to do with his hands, and settled for running them up and down Roy's sides. His heart wouldn't stop pounding.

Roy reached the bottom of the shirt and paused, glancing back up at Jean's face. His face softened just a touch, and Jean took a deep breath.

"There's no need to be nervous, Havoc," Roy smiled. "You won't scare me off. Just touch me."

Another deep breath. Roy started to push the shirt off Jean's shoulders, and they sat up to make it a little easier. Jean reached up and stroked the side of Roy's neck.

"I don't want to scare myself off," Jean confessed.

Jean pressed his right thumb along Roy's jawline and curled his fingers behind an ear. Roy started to unbutton his own shirt, and Jean couldn't help but follow the movement with his eyes.

"Maes was my first guy," Roy said. "Back when we were both in the academy, and neither of us had a clue what we were doing. We just knew that we were horny as hell, and tired of the idiot girls at the bars in town."

Jean hesitantly pressed his left palm to Roy's bare chest as the shirt fell away. At least his own heart wasn't the only one pounding.

"We were so nervous," Roy chuckled. "But Maes was good at laughing, and fortunately I realized that our first time was not going to be sensuous. Or mind-blowing. We were going to be fumbling idiots, and one day we would want to laugh about it."

Roy's hand cupped his shoulder, and Jean let himself feel the touch, the warmth and span of his fingers was soothing.

"So don't be afraid of fumbling, Havoc," Roy bent down to whisper in his ear, and Jean's hand wove further back into his hair.

Don't be afraid. The same words Roy had whispered to him in the dark, when Sola-Lust had tried to kill them. When Jean lay facedown in dirty water, drifting in and out of consciousness, unable to move his legs. Don't be afraid. I'll save you... somehow. Just hold on!

Jean swallowed. He glanced up and met Roy's blue eyes, still and quiet like a gentle pond. "Okay," he breathed, "I won't be afraid."

Roy smiled and pressed his face to Jean's, nose brushing over his cheekbone, before pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his lips.

Jean knew what kisses were like. He'd kissed many girls, even kissed Sola-Lust at one point, but he'd almost always led, or been broken off. No one had ever kissed him like Roy was kissing him now - with bruising force, consuming everything - and he couldn't help but bury his fingers deeper into Roy's hair while his tongue was stroked and teased.

Roy's hands were on his hips, knees sliding carefully between Jean's thighs, and when his back met the sofa again, Jean broke the kiss to laugh. He finally let his hands wander over Roy's neck, felt the flex of muscles in his shoulders, and the slick sweat covering his back.

They both moaned as their bare chests crushed together. Havoc bent his knees and brought his spread legs up to cradle Roy's hips as his hands found the belt loops around the back of his pants, and with a sharp tug he brought Roy's weight down on top of him.

Jean knew it wasn't going to be the same as with a girl, and while he'd established no penetration, the feel of Roy's hips pressing into his was suddenly so overwhelming and so different and so good his mind couldn't help but wander that way. But no, not now. Not yet.

Roy's eyes flickered back to his, and heat flushed over his entire face, but it didn't stop him from bringing his hands around to the front of Roy's pants, pausing at his belt buckle.

Finally, he saw a crack in Roy's demeanor as the other man groaned his name. "Jean..."

His hands twitched and trembled as he unfastened the belt, unbuttoned Roy's pants, and pushed everything, including undergarments, down Roy's hips and legs. Roy had evidently removed his shoes already. Before Jean lost his courage, he wrapped his hand around Roy, slowly running his palm up and down.

"Jean!" Roy groaned in his ear, and there were frantic hands scrambling to finish removing Jean's own clothes.

Then somehow he was naked, draped across Roy's couch, being touched and kissed and - fuck - licked. He liked Roy's hands, their calloused, forceful grip so different from the dainty, gentle touch of a woman, almost more than he liked the way Roy swallowed him in one smooth motion.

"Roy!"

Jean dug his fingers into the back of couch as the he bumped the back of Roy's throat. Roy pulled back, readjusted his angle, and Jean swore as he slid down Roy's throat. Twice more, and Jean frantically dug his fingers into Roy's hair as he came.

A few minutes later, Jean realized he was still laying, mouth agape, on the couch. Something sharp dug into his hip, and he looked down to see Roy had propped his chin there, quietly smirking as he licked his lips.

"Ready for some more fun, Jean?"

"Yeah, chief."


Hope you enjoyed!