Wow okay, apparently I write smexy-time fics now.

Warnings: nsfw (not really explicit), fem!Roy, Havoc/Mustang

Timeline: Mid series (manga/Brotherhood)

29) Smoke

His apartment was dimly lit, candles scattered throughout the living room and the distinct smell of smoke filling the air. Havoc sat patiently, lounging across the couch and toying with the cigarette between his lips as he heard the door creak open.

She stepped in quietly, heels clicking on the hardwood floor as she shut the door and shucked off her stifling uniform jacket. She frowned slightly at the cloying scent of the rooms and shrugged, a wicked grin spreading across her face with new ideas as she all but glided into the room, planting herself across from her man.

"You know I hate those things, Jean," she said, reaching over and plucking the red-tipped cigarette from her Lieutenant's mouth. Leaning forward, she slowly crawled atop him, straddling his hips as she took a long drag and puffed the smoke back in his face. He coughed. "And you see why."

Havoc grinned devilishly as it came to be his turn to grab the cigarette and grind it in the ashtray, wrapping a hand around her and pulling her into his chest. She grabbed his shirt front and he could feel the carefully manicured nails dig into his chest through the cloth even as he grew distracted by the steamy warmth of her breath as she began running soft lips down the side of his face, catching his ear in her teeth and nipping playfully. She laughed as she felt a hard bulk rise beneath her.

"Maybe you should teach me a better way to relax, then." He said, voice rough with arousal and a still-remaining triumph from what was now long ago. He had been the one to tame the wild Mustang. His Colonel and his lover were one and the same, and damn was she good. Gone were the almost tentative kisses and caresses of their first night, now replaced with wildly flying sheets and pounding hearts as they molded and fit around each other. He knew just where to kiss her to elicit sweet, low whines of pleasure, how to have her moan his name and clutch at his hair in ecstasy. He could constantly taste her on his lips, had to pull up his collar to cover the hickies down his neck. She was his, he was hers, and even in the middle of the work day he would feel dark eyes on the back of his head, or would find his mind wandering to how her uniform hugged her figure just so, or how that lazy drawl she took when on the phone sent sparks down his spine and... elsewhere.

He thought that by now the only reason he still kept smoking was because it always led to Roya Mustang's patented rehab.

I guess this is a thing now. Okay. Unexpected.

koryandrs: thanking you kindly!

PalindromePen: Thank you very much!

Dragonfire Alchemist: Agh, pain. I would apologize, but... no regrets.

If anyone has anything they want to see (situations, head canons, etc.), then don't hesitate to request and I'll see what I can do for ya!