I was feeling sort of eh at eleven at night so I decided to do…what else but non-smut?
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Theme Twenty Five: Not What It Looks Like
Havoc snapped his fingers. He had forgotten something, he knew it. The Colonel had forgotten a very important something or other that was due sometime between now and Thursday, all he had to do was mention it in front of Hawkeye and she'd figure out the rest.
Not bothering to knock, he grabbed the handle of the blue door that led to the office Mustang shared with his Lieutenant and pulled. "Yo, chief, forgot to tell you, there's some whatsamajigger that's- Oh. Jesus, lord of mercy…" Havoc's ever-present cigarette dropped clean on the floor. There was the chief alright, and there was Hawkeye, pinned underneath the desk with half her shirt peeled up and her hair messy. Mustang wasn't in a much better state, his face was flushed and his pants were hanging haphazardly from his waist from being yanked off obviously just moments ago. Hawkeye opened her mouth to say something when Havoc cut her off by holding up his hand. "Don't tell me. You're going to say this isn't what it looks like, right?"
Mustang answered for her. "No, I was going to say that this is exactly what it looks like and that you should knock before you enter someone's private office, Havoc. Now kindly see yourself to the door while I finish up my business here."
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Business indeed, you naughty, naughty colonel. I hope Riza rifle-whips you.
…
While you're naked.
Not just because I want to see it.
Because it would hurt more.
Yeah, that's it…