Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: Calculated Risk
Pairing: HavocxRoy (and the occasional RoyxHavoc)
Rating: varies by chapter, R/NC17 overall
Timeline: AU, may mention specific events of the first anime
Summary: Roy and Jean traverse the pitfalls of their new (and secret) relationship...
AN: Yep, still loving those two.

Calculated Risk
Chapter 3
"Mutual Understanding"

Although there were times when a cigarette rightfully followed certain time honored traditions, namely a good meal and the most incredible sex ever had, Jean was convinced that indulging in a slice of Gracia's home-baked apple pie made a damn good argument in its own favor.

"It's just not fair that Hughes gets to eat like this every day," he said before shoving another forkful into his mouth and chewing heartily.

"No, it's not," Roy concurred.

Hearing the hint of humor in the other man's voice, Jean turned and looked at Roy, who was lying on his side of the bed, his head tucked into the crook of his arm and watching him devour the pie as if he hadn't eaten in years, the sheet thankfully- and barely- concealing his remarkably naked form. Jean took in the sight of his... well, his lover now, to be perfectly accurate, noting the black hair mussed from their writhing about, dark eyes bearing an amused gleam, and a smile that bore no pretense whatsoever, and he felt a stirring in his chest.

And in other places, too, of course.

"You're laughing at me," he pointed out.

"No, I'm not," Roy insisted. "Well... not a lot."

He rolled over onto his back, stretched and yawned lazily. Jean found the move somewhat endearing in its own way, as well as, for reasons he could not decipher, decidedly feline. The blonde polished off the slice of pie in two more bites and set the plate on the nightstand nearest him. He scooted down in the bed and turned toward Roy, propping himself up on one elbow.

"You know, you can smoke in here if you want," Roy said. He closed his eyes against the long digits that wove their way through his hair and gently massaged his scalp, seemingly losing interest in the invite- or conversation at all, for that matter- as he focused on Jean's touch... something he had come to know rather well in the past few hours. "I don't mind."

Jean shook his head although Roy could not have possibly seen him do so. Even if the offer really was solely out of the kindness of his heart and not in any way tied to some sense of obligation over what had just taken place between them, Jean was not about to take advantage. As it was, he subjected Roy's office to smoke; the last thing he wanted was to fill the man's house with it as well.

"I'm good. But thank you for offering."

If only the moment could have lasted an age, Jean would not have minded at all. Roy was so hypnotic in this natural state of his, untainted by duty or regret, and, quite simply, stunning.

However...

"We need to talk about this," Roy said suddenly, quietly, and rather seriously, while opening his eyes and peering at Jean.

If only.

"Yeah." Jean sighed and reluctantly retrieved his hand from the soft, fine strands of Roy's hair. "I suppose we do."

XXX

Roy inwardly mourned the removal of Jean's hand; it had felt pretty damn good. Then again, there wasn't much that man had done that hadn't felt good over the past few hours. Regardless of the amount of time that had passed since he last allowed someone inside of him in such an intimate way, Roy didn't think that he had ever felt so blissfully sore and worn out from being fucked. Well.

But before he could lose himself completely in his rapture, some conversation was in order.

"We probably should have discussed this beforehand," he started, conveniently neglecting to add that he was quite glad they hadn't, lest mind-blowing sex might not have occurred.

"Probably," Jean agreed. "Wouldn't have made for good foreplay though."

Damn, was he a quick one. Roy grinned in spite of himself, a merry, carefree sound that seemed foreign even to his own ears, especially given his tendency to cast aside more pleasant sentiments.

Jean inched toward him and eased his leg over Roy's. "I hear what you're saying, though," he admitted, mindlessly running his foot along the other man's shin. "I guess I just didn't want to say or do anything that would have ruined the moment. Call me selfish."

"Selfish," Roy quipped. He smiled as Jean laughed, relieved that their line of thinking had been one in the same, and he eased a leg over Jean's, trapping it between both of his. "But seriously..."

"... what happens now?"

Even without looking, Roy could feel Jean's still amused but now questioning gaze upon him. "Yes," he said, turning his head to meet the intense stare head-on. "What was this for you, Hav- Jean? A one-time thing or what?"

"No," Jean replied with an emphatic shake of the head. "I didn't approach you at the bar just because I wanted to get laid. I mean, I'm not going to lie to you, Roy. I wanted to sleep with you, only an idiot wouldn't. But that's not all I'm looking for here."

Roy scolded himself for barely managing to hold back a self-satisfied preen over the compliment; apparently Jean knew just the right way to stroke an ego, too. Such vanities were nice to imagine oneself, as he frequently did, but to hear it spoken so earnestly from another was just as pleasant. But there would be time for wallowing in hubris later; there was an issue that still needed tending, one which had taken a most interesting turn, to say the least.

"Are you saying that you want... a relationship?"

XXX

A relationship?

Jean's mind could barely wrap around the awesome possibility of such a thing with the magnificent creature lying beside him. Not that he wanted to put the cart before the horse, but it didn't sound as if Roy was all that opposed to the idea, either.

"I'm saying..." Jean moved in closer and pressed against him, much to the growing... distraction... of both. "Let's see where it goes." He trailed his hand down Roy's chest and brought it to rest against his abdomen, absolutely delighting in the way the man flinched and tensed beneath his fingers.

Roy Mustang was ticklish. How fucking cute.

"This wouldn't change things out there," he continued, absentmindedly running his fingers along the smoothness of Roy's alabaster skin. "As far as the rest of the world is concerned, I'll still be nothing more than your loyal, if mildly idiotic subordinate," he added with mock self-deprecation.

Jean spotted the brief creasing of the brow and matched it with one of his own, worried that he may have been asking for too much. He couldn't blame him, really. What they were considering was wrought with jeopardy, without a doubt, but in the end, it was Roy who stood to lose the most. Maybe he had gotten ahead of himself after all.

"Would that really be alright with you?"

Or maybe not.

"Yeah," Jean promised him. "Would that really be alright with you?"

He tried not to appear too expectant as he waited for Roy's response. Again, Jean fully realized that this was a lot to venture, for Roy much more than himself. But the truth of the matter, which he was fully prepared to argue, was that they were already past the point of turning back. Even if Roy didn't care to consent to anything beyond this one night, they would still have to indulge in the façade of mere co-workers, pretending that nothing untoward had happened between them. If they were going to have to play the game, why not just see how far they could take it?

"It's fine." Roy covered Jean's hand with his own and offered him the patented smirk that he knew very well. "Besides, it's a little too late to take it all back anyway."

Jean nodded, pleased that their thoughts were of the same vein. Wouldn't it be funny, he mused, if that had been their subconscious goal from the very beginning, both of them conveniently avoiding the subject of consequence until it was too late for any preventative measures?

He leaned forward and gently kissed Roy's shoulder, happier than he could possibly begin to understand, let alone articulate by any other means than letting his lips dance along the smooth and delicate skin before him. And it had nothing at all to do with any failed attempts at past relationships, the endless parade of women- and the one man- with whom he had never been fully inspired to shed his outer wall as much as he had already done in such a short amount of time with this man.

It was because it was this man.

He had already sworn his career to Roy Mustang, without hesitation.

What would he lose to him next?

An excellent question, but irrelevant in the wake of deceptively strong arms, pulling him on top of a body that was, once again, more than ready to receive him...

XXX

If they kept this up, neither man would get any rest. Especially Jean, who still had the unenviable task of driving home so late at night. Of course the thought of sharing the bed with him for the night's duration sounded divine, but even now, at this most delicate moment, Roy managed to maintain a hint of practicality- which was a good thing if this undertaking of theirs had any chance of succeeding.

He hissed sharply as Jean's cock slid against his, and he wrapped his legs around the man hovering above him to sustain the contact, ignoring the protesting ache of his body for an ache of a different kind, his mind reeling in renewed anticipation of being taken by Jean yet again. Rarely, if ever, did Roy even want, let alone actively pursue such a thing; oh, he did want to fuck Jean as well, make no mistake, but the sensation of Jean breaching him, filling him, sliding in and out of him and coming deep inside of him, those things rendered moot the arrogant need to dominate a lover for the sake of his ego.

Roy could feel the tip of Jean's cock slowly easing its way in, aided by the considerable amount of slickness still to be found down there, where the other man had proven to be a little overzealous during the first application of lubricant. He closed his eyes and arched his back and waist, yielding himself to Jean's advances. There was a sharp burst of pain- there always would be, he supposed- followed quickly by the same mind-numbing sensation of fullness that had overtaken him before. Twice.

Jean was fucking him again. Well.

The two men continued in the timeless rhythm, the world around them and everything in it, little more than a vague concept. Nothing else mattered, nothing else even existed save for the two of them, joined together and clinging to each other one last time. Roy cried out through clenched teeth as Jean touched upon the spot deep within him that drove him to ruin, and he erupted against their abdomens, helplessly digging his nails into his lover's back while he found himself catapulted over the edge of coherence. If things progressed at this rate, Roy saw no other alternative:

This man would be his undoing.

He had already given his body to Jean Havoc, without hesitation.

What would he lose to him next?

XXX

"Good morning," Riza Hawkeye announced in her no-nonsense way as she entered Roy's office with Black Hayate in tow.

While Kain Fuery began doting on the dog, having been his temporary one-time owner, Heymans Breda quickly secured a spot in the corner of the room, giving himself much distance from the adorably 'ferocious beast' whose worst atrocity to date was relieving himself in a corner of the room. The same corner currently occupied by Breda, if memory served.

"Colonel," Riza said, approaching Roy's desk and looking down at him with a suspicious lift of the brow.

"Lieutenant Hawkeye," Roy murmured as he pretended to look over his agenda for the day, damned if he was about to give the woman any cause for her subtle griping. No, not today.

She moved away, seemingly content for now; the day was early and he'd hardly had enough time to warrant her wrath just yet. While everyone filled themselves with fresh coffee and pastries- a rare treat made by Fuery- Roy glanced at the clock and frowned slightly. Jean was a lot of things- as he was discovering- but late wasn't usually one of them-

"Sorry I'm late!" yelled the man himself as he bolted into the office, his jacket unfastened (a distinction Roy only allotted for Breda since it was almost impossible for him to wear the damn thing as intended) and his hair even more haphazard than usual. Although some small censure was in order, Roy had to admit that it did his pride a world of wonder to know he was the culprit behind Jean's... no, Havoc's tardiness.

Havoc, Havoc, Havoc. He would have to remember that.

"What's the matter, Havoc?" he asked, setting his gaze to condescending. "Hot date last night?"

A low round of chortling filled the room. Jean ran a hand through the jungle on his head and lit the cigarette that was dangling from the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, sir," he said. "Kept me up most of the night, that one did."

In an instant, the chortling turned into howls of laughter. Even Hawkeye, as emotionless as she seemed to be, smiled and shook her head at Havoc's "tall tale."

"Yeah, right, Havoc," Breda said amid belly-trembling guffaws. "Just admit you forgot to set your alarm."

"Now, now, Breda," Roy started, standing up and rounding his desk. "Havoc could actually be telling the truth, you know."

As he suspected it would, his statement was met with even more laughter. Roy couldn't speak for Jean, but he, for one, had never been so grateful that the man had such a shitty reputation among the ladies. He risked a brief glance at his lover, needing to know, once again and for all, if this was alright with him...

… and in that glance, he saw that it was.

"Okay then," he said without inflection, mindful to keep his newfound optimism tucked away for later observance. Roy shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned back against his desk, looking upon the faces of his most trusted. "Now that we're all here, let's begin."

TBC

AN: I don't know why I envision Fuery as this rampant S&M seme who bakes on the side, but I do. :-D

Thank you, once again, for reading what is quickly becoming one of my favorite fics. I really appreciate it.

~ xoxo