In a Puff of Smoke

Disclaimer: My name is Anemone. I loathe the Blue Bloodstained Lake, and I do now own Fullmetal Alchemist.

This is dedicated to Sly-sama, honorary member of the Rainbow Sparkle Posse. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, Sunshine-cougar!

"Y'know, Black Hayate, you don't know how good you've got it."

One hand flicked the ashes of his cigarette while the other absentmindedly scratched the black and white pup behind the ear. Jean Havoc sat, back against a tree – probably picking his Amestrian blue Military uniform from the rough bark – and let ocean blue eyes search the sky. It was a cloudless day; the sun warmed the grass, the breeze carried pollen through the air and butterflies flew through the clearing where he sat.

"You're carefree; no one tellin' you what to do and nothin' complicated like relationships to weigh you down." Jean murmured to the canine curled beside him.

Before he could continue this one-sided conversation, Black Hayate jumped up, shrill barks and yaps leaving his throat, as he ran across the grassy clearing. A trio of butterflies had decided to fly by, and Hayate obviously preferred chasing them to being in the company of the Second Lieutenant.

The blond sighed heavily, blue eyes slipping closed in deep thought. It wasn't a woman who was responsible for his gloomy mood today. No, this time it was a certain black-haired Colonel who was plaguing his thoughts, toying with his mind.

This was not how Havoc wanted to spend his smoke break; these should be enjoyable minutes. Yet as he took another drawl of his cigarette, he found himself spiraling into a memory, something that happed roughly three days ago.

Shortly before the end of the work day, Jean had been hit with the urge to watch the sun set. Taking one of his many smoke breaks, he made his way out into the warm air and up onto the roof of Central Command. He pressed himself against the side of the stone building by the rooftop entrance.

Ocean blue eyes drifted skyward just as the sun nestled into the horizon. The sky was a deep blue mixed with light purple, and Jean felt all the stress of the day begin to melt away.

'A smoke would make this perfect,' he thought as he pulled the pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his uniform. A slightly dreamy gleam entered his eyes as he slipped the slender object between his lips.

Fingers fumbled around, searching folds and pockets for a lighter. He knew he had one somewhere – one of his girlfriends had given it to him – he just had to find it.

He was so absorbed in his search that he didn't hear the slight squeak of the door opening. In fact, nothing distracted him from his frantic search except the snap that echoed through the air and effectively lit his cigarette.

"Need a light, Havoc?"

Feeling the heat encircle the butt of his cigarette, he inhaled deeply, reveling as the nicotine embraced him. Blue eyes glanced up to meet the smirking face of his superior officer.

"Hey there, Chief," he greeted, feeling his lips tug into a smile. He took in the sight of the man before him; black hair tousled artfully into a casual style, coal eyes observant, guard lowered just a bit and the way his uniform hugged every muscular curve-.

'I really shouldn't,' he thought. 'But he's just so…'

"Breathtaking," Jean murmured.

Colonel Mustang's gaze and attention, thankfully, were focused on the setting sun. "Indeed it is," he breathed, dropping to the ground beside his subordinate.

"So what brings you out here, Sir?" Jean asked conversationally. He was hoping to distract his mind from thoughts of Roy Mustang without his Military blues.

Roy let out a groan, dropped his face in his hands and not-quite-wailed, "There's just so much paperwork! How the hell am I supposed to finish it all?"

Second Lieutenant Havoc snorted. "Well maybe if you actually did the work instead of napping or-."

"Hey, I don't see you doing your work, Havoc!" Mustang snapped, jealous that his subordinates got off easy while he was buried daily under a mountain of forms. "Why are you out here anyway?" He asked, tone growing serious.

Blue eyes gleamed – almost smoldered – in the light of the setting sun as Jean leaned a little closer to the Colonel. "I like the view," he said simply, voice dripping with a slight purr.

This was one time Roy Mustang was not dense; the double meaning wasn't lost. His smirk widened as he scooted even closer, words ghosting over Havoc's lips. "It's mesmerizing."

He swiped his tongue across his lips nervously, mouth going dry as he felt what little confidence he had flee. The slightly older male took advantage of the blond's hesitation; lips collided with his, soft yet commanding. Before he could even bat a lash, Roy was prying his mouth open and plundering the hot space within.

It had been nothing more than a kiss, a swap of saliva and a tangle of tongues. But ever since that night, his commanding officer had avoided the Lieutenant like the plague, ducking into shadows, empty rooms and hallways if ever their paths crossed. He had even submerged himself into paperwork to avoid eye contact.

The blue eyed male sighed yet again, savoring another intake of nicotine into his system. Eyes strayed to Hayate who had successfully caught the butterfly he had been nipping at for the past five minutes. He watched as the insect's vibrant orange and red wings were pulled apart.

"Bad dog," Havoc scolded. "We do not destroy pretty things!"

Hayate's head dropped, a whine escaped his throat and his tail tucked between his legs as he sulked away.

The back of Jean's head rested against the rough tree bark as he drew what remained of his cigarette into his lungs.

"Those thing's will kill you, y'know that?"

Blue eyes snapped open as he released the puff of smoke around the very person who had been dominating his thoughts.

"Sir," Havoc said in greeting, keeping the salute at bay.

Roy came closer as a small smile played with his lips. Parting Jean's legs with nimble fingers, sliding slyly between them he said, "I hear they also cause impotence."

Whatever comeback the Lieutenant had was swept to the inner recesses of his mind as Roy's lips made their descent. He didn't stifle the deep moan when Roy's knee rubbed at his groin. Fingers laced into raven locks as he took control of the kiss, quickly showing Mustang who was in control.

His tongue explored, felt the searing skin of the inferno that was Roy Mustang's mouth, tasted the coffee that clung to his taste buds. Seeking something more, his wandering lips explored the jawline, earlobe and neck, all the while drawing breathy moans from his superior and causing fingers to pull incessantly at silky blond locks.

His mind swam, and his lungs begged for air. Grudgingly he pulled away. Intense blue eyes locked onto slightly glazed onyx.

"Well, I see all that nicotine hasn't affected your sex drive." That baritone voice was purring.

All other thoughts – thoughts of why the Colonel had been avoiding him in particular – left his mind. All that mattered was making those smirking lips tremble with pleasure. With this goal in mind, Jean dove for Roy's soft and pliable lips once more.

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The End!