Gracia Subtitle: Blame It On The Drinks

by bleedcolor

Everything had been going so well. He’d been carrying the ring around in his pocket for weeks now, just waiting for the best moment. Maes Huges x Kain Fuery. Yaoi. Don't like, don't read.

Title: Gracia (Subtitle: Blame It On The Drinks)

Author: bleedcolor
Genre: Angst/Smut/Angsty smut?
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Hughes x Fuery
Spoilers: Nope!
Word Count: Approx. 4,300

Warnings & Notes: Some sex. And, uh, the timeline here is a bit screwy. This is before Hughes and Gracia get married and before Roy gets transferred out to the East, right after Fuery has been transferred into Roy's little group of men. I tried to make it work as best I could, but if there are any blantantly egregious errors, please point them out. Also, I'd like to say that I'm pretty much not happy with this at all, and I think it completely and totally sucks. I'm sorry Dx

Written for fmafuhq at LJ for the month of February (Hughes).

PLEASE NOTE THAT THIS IS YAOI. IF YOU DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF TWO MEN GETTING IT ON, MOVE ALONG.

******

Maes Hughes was a smart man. He was military intelligence, for god's sake; that's really as smart as they come. Still, sitting on his barstool and pondering the contents of the glass in front of him, he couldn't figure out what he'd done; couldn't figure out where he'd gone so obviously wrong.

Everything had been going so well. He'd been carrying the ring around in his pocket for weeks now, just waiting for the best moment.

And then, then…

Roy had been amazingly accommodating the first night. Understanding and sympathetic; he'd even gone so far as to get completely shit-housed with his best friend, despite the fact they'd had to report in the morning. (And report they had, though it was amazing no one had suspected the dizzying amount of alcohol still flowing through their veins when they'd turned up.)

The next night Roy hadn't been quite as understanding, though Maes wasn't sure how much of it had been the hangover and how much had been his friend's natural irritability. Still, the alchemist had poured his drinks and been his shoulder to cry on; that was good enough for Maes, even if Roy hadn't shared the drinks with him this time.

On the third night Roy had met him wearily at the door and told him that drinking his liver cells away was not going to solve anything and to go home and sleep before firmly shutting the door in Maes' face.

Maes hadn't bothered going to Roy's on the fourth night, he'd stayed home and been quietly depressed all by himself. He might have gotten drunk again, but he'd finished off all his alcohol the night before.

Tonight he hadn't even bothered heading home; there was nothing to go home to. Surprisingly, Roy had turned up not long after he'd wandered into his favorite drinking establishment and taken a seat at the bar. It was enough to make Maes wonder who the other man had following him.

They'd been sitting in silence for about six drinks now and it was almost comfortable; Maes could almost fool himself into thinking it was a normal Friday night.

"Maes…"

He fought back the wince threatening to bubble out of him and turned his head, instead, inclining his eyebrow at his friend. Hughes knew that, whatever Roy was going to say, he wasn't going to enjoy what he was about to hear.

"You can't let this drag you down. Sometimes women just do things that we won't understand even if we try until the day we die."

Maes looked back down at his drink, twisting it roughly in his grasp and watched the amber liquid slosh around in the confines of the glass, considering his next words.

"She didn't even tell me why, Roy. She just said, 'I don't want to see you any more,' and walked out."

Hughes glanced up in time to see Roy spread his hands on the bar and get that funny little grimace on his face that said he really had no idea what to say or do to comfort this friend. Maes sighed and looked back at his drink, taking a sip and savoring the taste for the first time since the world had ended.

"I carried the ring around for a month," he said lowly, something he hadn't already mentioned to Roy. "Just…looking for the perfect time, you know?" He laughed, though the sound held no real humor. "Got so used to carrying the damn thing it's still in my pocket."

The alchemist stilled from where he'd been fidgeting beside him and sighed nearly inaudibly.

"I'm sorry, Maes."

Maes took another sip of his drink and nodded shortly, eyes on the far wall, not really acknowledging the words further than that; they didn't change anything, after all.

He turned to considering his drink as Roy rapped his knuckles softly on the bar and rustled noisily beside him. Leaving, Maes assumed, he had to work tomorrow. The song coming from radio playing in the corner suddenly rose above the ceaseless buzz of the room. He couldn't help but smirk bitterly as he heard the chorus: Alone again, naturally...

But then Roy's voice was sounding by his ear and Maes' concentration was broken in the few seconds it took him to realize that the other man wasn't actually talking to him.

"I want you to make sure that Major Hughes makes it home safely, Corporal; am I clear?"

"Yes sir!"

The voice was bright, eager to please; Maes couldn't see who it was coming from with Roy blocking his view, but they sounded young. Some new recruit, fresh out of training that Mustang had already somehow miraculously instilled loyalty in. The bastard didn't know how lucky he was some times.

A Lieutenant Colonel, at his age, with subordinates who adored him and enough people willing to push him to the top that some day he'd actually get there, Maes had no doubt. Still, there was another side to the Alchemist, part of him that was sneaky and conniving and would do almost get anything as the means to an end.

"I wasn't aware that I needed babysitting anymore," Maes drawled irritably, unsure if he was more upset that Roy was abandoning him again (selfish bastard that he was) or that Roy was patronizing him with this kid he didn't know.

"Humor me," Roy said softly, shrugging on his coat.

"Right," Maes sighed, having been humored by the other man too many times to consider refusing his friend this.

"Good man," Roy murmured, clapping a hand to his shoulder before striding towards the exit with his usual flair. "Take good care of him, Fuery," he called over his shoulder before moving out of the bar and Maes' line of vision.

Fuery. Slowly the Major turned his head to his watchdog for the evening. He was sure his eyebrows touched his hairline as he took the other man in. Fury? What cruel twist of fate had saddled the poor kid with that misnomer? And kid he was; large brown puppy eyes, barricaded by glasses that made those eyes seem impossibly larger, closely cropped brown hair like all the other fresh recruits, rounded face and an air of innocence that made Hughes want to gag.

Mentally, Maes swore, outwardly his expression did not change. This kid was just the type he'd liked to take on, way back when. When he'd been interested in anything that walked upright and would return his affection; before her.

What was Roy thinking, leaving him with this kid? Maes' mouth twisted into a frown as he turned back to his drink. He could just hear his friend now, 'You have to get over it, Maes, and what better way to do that than by having fun?'

His gaze slid back to the boy sitting next to him; the boy who blinked back at him guilelessly and curiously. Maybe Maes was getting paranoid in his old age. He'd heard the intelligence department did that to men. Surely Roy hadn't left him with this green recruit for any other reason than he trusted the Corporal.

Corporal. It was a harsh thought, but he doubted the kid would ever make it much farther in Rank.

"S-sir?"

Hughes blinked and found that the expression on Fuery's face had changed from curious to fearful, the focus of the emotion settling on him. Maes blinked, suddenly surprised at how tight his own expression felt. He was scowling.

He sighed, shifting in his barstool, turning back to his drink and waving at the empty seat next to him, the one that Mustang abandoned.

"Sit," he ordered, before pausing, surprised at how raspy he sounds as he tries for cheer, at least false cheer. "Have a drink."

Fuery sat warily on the stool and Maes found he had to forcibly keep himself from grinning wolfishly at the corporal's caution. This kid was already turning out to be fun.

"Major—"

"Call me Hughes." He paused, licking his lips, surprised to find himself suddenly speaking again, without any real conscious thought. "Better yet, call me Maes."

Maybe he's drunker than he thought.

"M-Maes?"

His name is squeaked and he can't keep his lips from quirking into a small smirk as he turns back to his drink.

"Yes, Fuery?"

"Oh, ah," the kid swallowed nervously and it again took all of Maes' will power not to smile predatorily. "Kain is fine, sir."

Kain, eh? Poor kid would never live up to his name, Maes was sure. Still (and maybe it was the fact that the bartender had refilled his glass in the time since he'd learned the Corporal's last name) it somehow fit. Kain Fuery. It was ironically proper.

"Sir—"

"Maes," he corrected gently.

"Ah, Maes, then," Fuery muttered; he was blushing. "I don't think I'm supposed to be drinking."

Hughes waved his hand dismissively.

"One drink never hurt anybody," he said, waving to the bartender for the other man.

"But…," the Corporal looked nervous about it as the bartender—Joe, Maes thought, he'd been here often enough that he should think of the man by his name, since he knew it— poured him a drink and refilled Maes' glass.

"No buts about it," Maes said mock cheerfully. "I don't like drinking alone and if you're not going to drink with me, you can just go home. I'm sure Roy—the Lieutenant Colonel, that is, will understand."

Fuery gulped and Maes felt particularly manipulative, but probably not as guilty as he should have when the Corporal lifted his glass and took a rather large swallow.

Briefly he wondered what it would take to get the younger man tipsy. Not falling down drunk, (where Maes would be in a short time if he didn't slow down) no, just pleasantly tipsy; laughing easily and maybe a little flushed. Maes could take him home and push him gently down onto his bed, not thinking about her, and lose himself in heat and kisses, just for a little while.

Damn. He took a long draw on his drink.

This was all Roy's fault.

Two hours later, who was at fault was the last thing on Maes' mind. Even she came in at a close second to last. Maes couldn't think of the last time he'd felt so relaxed.

For months now he'd been worried about one thing or another. Roy, his friend's latest promotion, a handful of cases, his own impending promotion (that was coming rather slowly), scraping up the money for his own place and a ring, and then this little disaster… it had all slowly been giving him an ulcer, despite the cheerful face he put on everything, or nearly everything.

Hughes started out of his thoughts as Fuery slumped against him and couldn't stop the smile that curved his lips. The little fool had barely had two drinks and was laughing and flushed just the way Maes had pictured him not so long ago. He hadn't expected the Corporal's laughter to be so contagious.

The Major pushed the smaller man away to sit up straight on his stool.

"I think you've had quite enough to drink, Kain."

Fuery nodded absently, trying to stifle his giggles as he rubbed at an eye beneath his glasses.

"Havoc says I can't hold my liquor, so you're probably right."

Maes blinked, trying to place the name the other man had just given him with a face. Havoc…the other blonde in Roy's rag-tag little band; the one that smoked like a chimney. He nodded slightly, to show that he agreed with Havoc's judgement.

"You go out drinking with Havoc a lot?"
The Corporal laughed again, though not with the mirth he'd had before, and shook his head.

"No. He invited me once, to be polite, and didn't bother again," Fuery said softly, staring at the empty glass in front of him before blinking forcefully and turning to Maes. "I don't think he likes me much. Actually, I don't think anyone in the office likes me much. Not even the Lieutenant Colonel. That's why he pawned you off on me."

Maes raised an eyebrow at the slight, watching in amusement as a horrified flush slowly suffused itself onto Fuery's face.

"I-I, oh, that came out wrong!" the Corporal exclaimed, looking at Hughes worriedly. "I don't mind this at all, but I don't think Lieutenant Colonel Mustang would have given the job to someone he liked, not because there's anything wrong with you, but just because that seems to be how he works and, and—I'm sorry," Fuery finished with a half wail, apparently not noticing the smile twitching at Hughes' lips.

He shook his head and patted the younger man's shoulder reassuringly.

"Roy can be like that sometimes, but I'm not so sure that's why he saddled you with me," Maes said, smiling a bit self-depreciatively. He actually wasn't sure why Roy had left them together, but he supposed it wouldn't do to tell the Corporal what his suspicions were. "I am his best friend, after all. He wouldn't have left me with just anyone."

The arrogant tone in his voice practically made him want to strangle himself, but his words seemed to do the trick. Fuery smiled shyly at him in a way that made Maes' throat tighten.

"So why would you think that Roy and the other men don't like you?" He asked softly, once he'd cleared his throat of its inexplicable blockage.

Fuery flushed. "It…it's stupid."

Maes laughed softly. 'Try me. If nothing else, you can always blame the drinks."

The other man blinked; then he nodded slowly, licking his lips.

"It's little things…the Lieutenant Colonel will send me out to do things, things that seem designed to keep me out of the office. Pointless little tasks that take forever…and sometimes, when I come back early, they'll be talking amongst one another, but when I walk in, they stop. It's pretty obvious that they don't want me hearing something."

The boy sounded so genuinely miserable about the situation that Maes couldn't help but reach out and pat Fuery on his shoulder, flushing lightly and snatching his hand back when he received a surprised, wide-eyed glance for his troubles. It had been a while since he could remember being this unsure of himself, even with as much as he'd had to drink—especially with as much as he'd had to drink. His thoughts flitted over the fact that it must've had something to do with the loss of her, but he didn't allow them to linger.

"Maybe," he mused softly, gesturing for another drink, "Maybe it's not that they don't like you, but that they're unsure of what you think of them."

Fuery looked a bit confused at that suggestion, but Maes just lifted his drink and took a lazy swallow, content with finally having puzzled out why Roy had left the Corporal in his care.

Testing the kid's loyalty, though Maes thought it was rather obvious that Kain Fuery was about as conniving as a newborn puppy. The intelligence officer was surprised that he hadn't figured out what Roy wanted sooner; they had both taken Havoc out and gotten him drunk for this same reason, not so long ago. But, then, he had been drinking a lot tonight.

His newly emptied glass rattled as he set it on the bar; he might as well dispense with his duty, then, since he'd realized what it was.

"So, what do you think of them?"

"Ah…," Fuery flushed and twisted his fingers a bit. "I was really excited to be working with them. First Lieutenant Hawkeye is practically famous and so is the Lieutenant Colonel…but, now, I don't know what I'm doing wrong."

Maes raised an eyebrow, noticing that the corporal did not mention Havoc, though the blond chimney was what had brought them into the conversation. He wondered if there was something to that, wanted to ask -prying and picking apart mysteries were in his nature, as well as his job description, after all- but he didn't.

He had a feeling, from the gleam that had been in Fuery's eye earlier, that he didn't truly want to know, though he could guess. Lost in thought, he never saw Fuery wave for another drink.

When he turned back to the other man, the new glass was empty and wobbling on the bar, drinker slumping towards him again.

"D'you think it's because they know I like men?" he slurred questioningly, temple brushing Maes' shoulder.

Hughes knew that the alcohol couldn't have possibly affected Fuery that quickly, but it had given him a boost of courage and the Major couldn't begrudge the younger man that. Even if his question did bring about the second embarrassed tinting of his cheeks that night as he recalled some of the things he and Roy had done when they were younger in the name of 'experimentation'. He pushed Fuery away again, sliding off his stool and digging into his pocket for his wallet to pay for their drinks.

"I doubt they have any problems with that, Kain," he said, tossing the money onto the bar. "C'mon, we've both had enough."

Fuery nodded and slipped off the barstool, steadier on his feet than Maes had expected.

"The Lieutenant Colonel told me to walk you home," the younger man murmured absently as they made their way towards the door.

A scowl might have crossed Hughes' face at the thought of being baby-sat (Roy had apparently decided to kill two birds with one stone), but truthfully he was too busy focusing on not tripping over chairs and then on remaining upright as he pulled on his coat to worry about his pride or his friend's machinations in this. He'd had a lot more to drink than he'd realized.

Fuery waited patiently by the exit for him until they finally left, amiably trekking towards his apartment.

Luckily for Maes, the walk in the brisk night air sobered him up considerably, and there were no real obstacles for him to trip over as they walked. It almost seemed the opposite was happening with Fuery, but then, Maes thought, he had only had his last drink right before they'd left; it was probably hitting him just now. Either that or the younger man was normally just a little clumsy.

They talked as they ambled their way towards Hughes' apartment and, before he realized it, he was unlocking his door and pushing it open, inviting the other man in. He made coffee and they continued to converse about pointless things, at least they had until Maes handed the other man his cup and blurted out the question that had been plaguing him since Fuery had admitted to liking men.

"So, you like Second Lieutenant Havoc?"

He could have kicked himself the second the question slipped off his tongue. Damn it, he'd decided he didn't want to know! But he'd been thinking about it, in the back of his mind, the entire way here… And now the question was out in the open, so there was really nothing to do other than wait for the answer.

Fuery blushed, something that was rather predictable after spending the past few hours, and ducked his face behind the cup Maes had given him, taking a sip and keeping himself from having to answer right away.

He was still blushing as he swallowed and cleared his throat.

"He…he's very handsome…," Fuery paused and took another quick drink of his coffee, blush flaring brighter. "But, then, so are you."

Maes stared at the younger man standing mere feet away from him. He'd never been one to handle temptation well; his mother had told him again and again as a child that it would be the death of him. Kain Fuery was temptation if he'd ever seen it.

If she was still his, it might have been different. Hell, if she was still his, he wouldn't have been here with the Corporal at all. But she wasn't. And he was.

It took all of two strides to bring them toe to toe, Maes tugging the coffee mug out of Fuery's lax hand before pulling the younger man against him in a hard kiss.

At first it was rough, all teeth and noses bumping, Fuery's hand fisting in his hair and pulling, and stubble scraping over soft skin. And then it gentled, turned to tasting and teasing, Maes pulling the other man flush against his chest as lips parted and tongues danced over each other. Slowly the kiss ended, both of them pulling back, though not far, breath that wasn't their own whispering over each pair of lips.

"Wow," Fuery murmured, breathing hitching a bit as he blinked up at Maes.

Hughes simply grinned, ducking his head for another kiss. The younger man pulled back farther then, looking a bit startled, tell tale flush renewing in his cheeks.

"You'll be here in the morning, won't you? I mean—," the flush deepened and Fuery worried his lip charmingly. "You'll be here because it's your place, but you won't just run away because everything's so much clearer in the light of day, when there's no haze of alcohol." His fingers worried at a uniform button. "I understand when things don't work out, but to be written off as a mistake first thing…," the younger man trailed off, looking away. "I'm not interested in one night stands."

Maes reached out and cupped his chin reassuringly, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. Fuery was less naïve than he'd given him credit for.

"I'll be here in the morning."

"Ok," the Corporal murmured.

And that was that; they were kissing again, the smaller man having to tug Maes' head down for their lips to meet, but taking the initiative all the same.

They made it down the hall and to the bedroom, though Hughes wasn't really sure how with all their stumbling—they'd knocked the photo of his favorite uncle off the wall, he did remember that—and losing clothes every few feet or so. Still, they'd made it, and that was all that mattered for the moment.

Fuery tumbled into Maes' bed as beautifully as the Major had imagined, flush riding high on his cheeks as he blinked innocently up at Hughes, blind and practically helpless without his glasses. Maes grinned and set said glasses on the bedside table, briefly entertaining the notion of taking his own frames off before decided he wanted to see the other man's reactions as clearly as he could.

There was more kissing as they removed the last articles of clothing that had escaped their flurry of stripping in the hall—Kain's socks, Maes' pants—before Hughes pushed the other man back, slowly acquainting himself with the smaller body.

Hughes' fingers trailed everywhere, pinching over nipples, counting ribs one by one, over surprisingly sharp hipbones and the sensitive skin of Fuery's inner thighs; his mouth followed his fingers—kissing, nibbling, sucking, and tasting.

He came to the Corporal's erection last, swiping his tongue teasingly over the head and sucking lightly, rolling the taste of the other man around in his mouth and distracting Fuery from the massage oil covered fingers that were slowly intruding and stretching him.

After what seemed like an eternity of patience and stretching, Maes found himself gasping, surrounded by the heat of the other man. Fuery was tighter than she was, tighter than she could ever be, really, given the circumstances, and it was unfair to compare them, but he found himself doing it all the same, even as he thrust deeply into the man beneath him.

A breathy little moan escaped Fuery and Maes echoed the sound, murmuring the other man's name as he wrapped a hand around the straining erection that rubbed wetly against his stomach. It was an endless measure of thrusting, stroking, and slick skin pressing together, suddenly over the same way it had begun: in a dizzying spin of quick motion and unexpected tension.

Then the tension was gone and they slumped against each other, heartbeats slowing. Maes slowly drifted off to sleep.

It was the phone, that slowly dragged him out of slumber at a godforsaken hour the next morning, ringing shrilly right beside his ear. His glasses were pressing painfully into the side of his face and he groaned softly, reaching behind him to grab the thrice damned thing before it rang again. His head was already splitting and he didn't need anything adding to it.

He fumbled the receiver against his ear, trying to clear his throat of the cottony feeling for a few seconds, but not really succeeding.

"Hello?"

"Maes..?"

Oh, god, he thought, it was her; she'd called him. He pushed himself up in the bed, not wanting to think about the warm weight curled half against him.

"Yes?" he asked softly, trying to straighten his thoughts in an attempt to remember the things he'd considered saying when he had imagined getting this chance.

"Oh, Maes," she said softly, sounding a bit breathless on the other end of the line. "I want to apologize for what this whole mess. I was being foolish and, well, I didn't really mean it when I said I didn't want to see you again. Can…can we meet somewhere and talk?"

Maes blinked, stunned, and happened to glance down just in time to catch wide, innocent, brown eyes, blinking sleepily up at him. He was sure his heart stuttered to a cold stop as he imagined the various ways that this could end, as that shy half smile cautiously revealed itself to the light of day.

"Maes?"

He couldn't seem to do anything other than stare the other man in the eye as he swallowed thickly.

"I'll be right there."