Disclaimer: FullMetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa and Square-Enix. No BONES, it doesn't belong to you.
Warning: This is a crack fic done for challenge. Contains Riza/Hughes and slight Roy/Riza. Please heed the rating.
It all started with a drunken argument between the Colonel and Hughes: Who was better in bed? Maes argued that he was – being married and all. Roy countered back, saying that he'd dated more women than Hughes had. Needless to say the argument turned into a bet, and she was unfortunate enough to be in the vicinity.
The Colonel had kindly ordered her to be the judge.
So here she is now, slightly tipsy and sitting in between both superiors. Maes Hughes looks completely sober except for the fact that his glasses are askew and he grins maniacally from time to time. The Colonel is just… dead for a lack of better word. He is currently slouched on the sofa with his head touching the low table. So much for a great womanizer, she thought while scooting over to wake him up.
Suddenly a warm hand lands on top of her bare thigh just below the high hem of her miniskirt, a gift from Edward's automail mechanic. She follows the length of the arm to arrive at the smirking face of Hughes. He stands and jumps over Riza's legs to sit himself next to Roy.
"Ooooh Roooy" he starts in a singsong voice, "how about the bet? Would you kindly grace me this time by stepping down? Hic."
". . . . Go to hell Hughes . . . ." He lets out a long groan and clutches his head a bit. "I'm not backing down yet." With a bit of effort he manages to get his head up and leans on the back of the sofa. Hawkeye watches him patiently. Being the strict military, what's that? Oh yes, bitch that she is, any order from her superiors are just that – orders and must be fulfilled to the best of one's ability.
Eventhough the said superior is currently drunk, and the said subordinate is tipsy.
Without warning Roy stands up and pulls Riza with him. She sways slightly but gains her ground and follows him. Hughes trails behind, his face akin to the sentence "Let's settle this once and for all!" Even through the hazy smoke Riza can see the difference between her Colonel and Lieutenant Colonel. His steps are steadily losing ground, his steps are rather firm and curious. His groans grow steadily longer, his were reduced to mere chuckles. At long last Mustang decides that this room is as good as any and tumbles over the threshold, pulling Riza on top of him to the bed and kissing her feverishly. His tongue snakes between her pliant lips to draw a slight moan from the back of her throat. He tastes like bourbon and gin.
She fervently replies his kisses with heady awareness. But then it strikes her that this man straddling her hips with his hands under the skirt is not responding anymore. Hawkeye opens her eyes to find him – apparently – asleep. No, scratch that. Passed out is more like it. Still hazy from the rush of hormone, she tries to wake him up only to be stopped by a warm hand.
This time the warm hand lands on her cheek, turning it slowly and in an instant she was in the arms of another man. She barely paid any mind of Roy's body being pushed off her and only revel in the sensation that his hands are stirring on her thighs. He kisses Riza with expertise than can only be obtained after countless regular practices. His stubbles tickle her cheek but she likes the feeling. Being tipsy heightens her skin's sensitivity, she notes.
"Don't think I would back down, do you?" His eyes are still bloodshot and his breaths are still bitter but all she can think about is the small circular pattern he is making around her crotch, just to the side of her core. He flicks the finger experimentally on her panties.
She moans and presses the same finger on the spot.
"No sir… Ummh…" He flicks again, harder this time.
They pay no mind to the working of the next few minutes. All that is registered are hot wet sensations trailing down from her earlobe to her breasts, around her nipples and down down . . .
"Ummmh . . ." There… he laps and licks her like a kitten hungrily lapping the milk from his plate. Except she is sure that this man is more of a tiger than anything else. Riza squirms under his ministration until the back of her eyes explode into a million white shards. Still trembling she pulls him smirking face up to hers and kisses him deeply.
The Judge has yet to deem him worthy of winning the bet.
Havoc can literally see the stormy cloud hanging over Colonel's head. When asked, Mustang only replies with a muttered "I passed out". Jean looks over at Hawkeye, who only nods and replies back. "Lieutenant Colonel Hughes won by default, so truly Colonel, you are being childish." When asked about the bet however, she gives Havoc a look that sends him scurrying down the office and straight to his desk.
In her mind though, all she could think about was whether Colonel would win had it been the other way around. Experience is the greatest teacher afterall. She has to have a talk with Gracia about trainings then. Maybe she can help solve all of Riza's problem – permanently.
And for the first time in years she blushes for a memory.