Disclaimer - fma is not mine. the apparent b/d is my little addition to that spectacular universe.
and for the viewing pleasure of all those Havoc/Fury addicts we have Drabble the Twenty-second. i KNOW someone liked the idea of Fury in a collar, and i know I wanted fanart of it. so i kinda took the idea and ran with it a little more. so, there is shonen ai and collars involved. before you read and flame me, decide whether or not that is your kind of gig. -fireun
It took Roy Mustang a moment or two of thought to determine just what it was about Cain Fury this morning that was…different. The sergeant major had always been small…had always been rather quiet…but had he always hunched his head down towards his neck like that? Had he always had that sort of harried look to his eyes? There was, most definitely, something wrong, and as Fury was one of his men, it was up to Mustang to determine what the problem was.
He approached the smaller man with a determined air, and paused as he neared where Fury sat at his desk. The collar of his uniform was turned up a bit; reminiscent of the way Mustang had seen men attempt to cover up rather telling and socially amusing bruises along the neck and throat region. Not that Mustang himself had ever sunk to such covert tactics himself…
Perhaps Fury had found himself a woman?
Mustang changed tactics, assuming a more companionable air as he moved to stand beside Fury's desk. "Fury." He acknowledged in a warm voice, smirking. "Are you feeling alright today?"
"F-fine, Colonel." Fury squeaked out after a sort of half aborted jump.
"Here, your uniform needs straightening. You never know when the Fuhrer will wander in. Don't want to look slovenly." Mustang reached over to smooth down the collar of Fury's uniform and brushed his hand against a….buckle? Mustang removed his hand and straightened, his smirk vanishing in place of a rather deadpan expression. "Fury, is there a reason why you are wearing a collar?"
"Nossir…" Fury mumbled, turning a fascinating shade of red.
"Yo! Cain!" Havoc sauntered into the office, unlit cigarettesecure in the corner of a cat-in-cream sort of smile, something held in his left hand. "Time for lunch!"
Fury cast one embarrassed glance towards Mustang before excusing himself and walking over to join Havoc, who slung one arm around the other mans shoulders and led him off.
Mustang wandered back into his own office, shut the door, and almost collapsed in a combination of hysterical laughter and perturbation. Havoc had been holding…a leash.