The Flame Variable

Author's Note: God, Zeus, Buddha, don't kill me for this! Satan, YOU OWE ME!

The Flame Variable


Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. Meh.


Summary: A variable is an unknown, and Roy Mustang is full of them, including one unknown that even Maes Hughes never suspected.

Warnings: Not for kiddies. If you are not eighteen or older, go away. I will not be responsible for what happens when your parents catch you reading this. To any aforementioned parents who may catch their little angels reading this, you might consider child-lock or “nanny” controls to keep minors away from the website where this is posted.


Secrets were something that everyone was entitled to have, even the occasional one they kept from those closest to them. Roy Mustang had many secrets that only a select few were privy to. For instance: no one besides Riza Hawkeye and Maes Hughes knew Roy was slightly allergic to cats, that he had a weakness for strawberry cheesecake, that he actually rather liked Edward Elric (despite the constant bickering that went on between him and the boy), and that he used gel to keep his hair looking neat no matter what happened to it.

Roy was a study in unknowns; he detested operas but went to them anyway if his latest female interest liked them. He disliked the particular shade of blue the military uniforms used. He did not *really* want to become the country’s leader for the sake of making miniskirts the military female dress code (though he would not mind in the least turning that dream into reality). He could cook. Not *well*, but he could do it. He cleaned his own house instead of hiring a maid like most officers of his rank and salary, because he liked having his home to himself. Those and many more secrets were locked away in Roy’s mind, unlocked and laid bare only to the two people he trusted most, Riza and Maes. Some of those things even Riza did not know, as there was some information Roy entrusted only to his sole, male friend.

Thus, by the time Maes Hughes became a father for the first time, he thought he knew everything there was to know about Roy. And why not? He and Mustang had been friends since they were boys. They had grown up together, had gone to the Academy together, had shared each other’s hopes and fears and dreams. They knew one another better than most people ever imagined knowing someone, and they supported each other through thick and thin.

One can imagine how much of a shock it was, then, for Hughes to learn that there was one thing Roy had never let him in on.

It had started as a normal conversation about how things were going for each other. Hughes had raved for an hour or so about how adorable his newborn daughter was, and how wonderful it was to be a married man, and had then grilled Roy about his love life, as friends were entitled to do. And as usual, Roy had discussed various women, what they had been like, which ones he was likely to see again, and which ones he hoped he never had a second encounter with. Now, normally it was not in Hughes’ nature to pry further, but tonight, as he relaxed in his best friend’s living room, he noted that Roy was looking a tad distressed.

“Say, Roy,” he said casually, “Are you feeling all right?” He knew his friend had a habit of overworking himself. Maybe the man was sick.

Roy shifted uneasily in his seat on the couch. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.”

Maes raised an eyebrow. “Bull. I now that look; something’s wrong and you don’t want me to know about it. Spill, or I’ll show you more pictures of Alicia-chan.”

The threat produced the intended wince, and Roy yielded. “It’s just, I’m thinking of…not dating anymore for a while.”

If Roy had intended to give his best buddy a heart attack, he nearly succeeded. Roy Mustang, not date? That was ludicrous! “Don’t you have a reputation of some kind to uphold?” Hughes asked, trying not to gape like a fish. “What will Havoc say if you suddenly stop swimming the dating pool?”

“That’s just it!” Roy snapped, throwing his hands in the air. Now, Hughes had never actually seen anyone throw his hands up in the air, so this was quite the experience. The Flame Alchemist rose from his seat and began to pace the room like a caged animal.

“That’s why I’m not dating anymore,” Roy muttered. “Because if I do, my reputation is going to die a bloody death.”

“I don’t follow you.”

“I’m starting to feel paranoid. I’m afraid the next one might say something, and if not her then the one after that. And if she tells her friends, and those friends tell other people, it could get back to someone I know, and—”

“Roy,” Maes interrupted. “What are you talking about?”

The black-eyed man stopped pacing abruptly, and clenched his fists at his sides. He glared at the carpet like it was Public Enemy Number One, and bit his lip, refusing to answer.

“Roy?”

“You—” Roy swallowed, and his shoulders trembled ever so slightly. “You’ll laugh at me.”

Hughes sighed, and walked over to where his friend stood frozen and staring at the floor. “Roy,” he said firmly, placing a steady hand on the colonel’s shoulder, “I won’t laugh. Whatever it is, I’ll understand.”

Still refusing to look up, the alchemist mumbled something so quietly that Hughes couldn’t catch it.

“What?”

“Mffrnn.” Louder, but still not intelligible.

“Roy, I can’t hear you. Speak up.”

“I SAID I’M A VIRGIN!”

Stunned silence filled the room. Roy was pale and staring wide-eyed at the beige carpet, and Hughes was gawking at Roy like the man had grown compound eyes and antennas and started going “Heeeeeeeeeeeeeelp meeeeeeeeee! HEEEEEEEEEEEELP MEEEEEEEE!” in a high, squeaky voice.

Maes tried not to, he really did, but the corner of his mouth started to twitch, and the next thing he knew he was laughing so hard he thought he would lose a lung and die. His eyes began to tear up, and his sides felt like they would pop open, and he still couldn’t stop. He knew he must sound like a loon, and he knew he was making Roy feel bad, but it was too funny! Roy Mustang, Ladies’ Man Extraordinaire, was an un-plucked bloom!

“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA—”

“Maes....”

“—HAHAHAHAHAHA—”

“*Maes*.”

“—HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA—”

“Goddamnit, Maes, shut up!”

“—HAHAHAHA! I—” He gasped for air and struggled to cease his crowing. “I’m s-sorry, Roy, I couldn’t—HA!—help it! Y-you, a vir-virgin! I never would have guessed!”

Roy wrenched his shoulder out of Hughes’ grip and stalked back to the couch. “Just shut up! If you tell anyone....”

The intelligence officer sobered somewhat at that. “You know I would never. I’ve never told anyone your secrets before, so why the hell would I start now? I’m just curious; all those women, and you never got intimate with any of them?”

“I never said I never got intimate,” Roy bristled. “We just never had sex.”

“That’s the definition of ‘intimate,’ Mustang. But seriously, not a single one?”

The shorter man covered his eyes with a gloved hand. “No.”

“Why?”

A quiet sigh. “Because…it never felt like the opportune time. God knows, sometimes it got pretty close, but I never went all the way with anyone.”

Hughes went and flopped down next to Roy, reaching over and batting the hand away from those obsidian eyes. “It’s not a crime to be a virgin, you know. I was until I married Gracia.”

“I know, but damn it, that was a while ago. I’m nearly thirty, Maes, and on top of that, I’ve gone out with so many women that if anyone found out, they’d think there was something wrong with me.”

“Is there?”

“NO!”

“Then there’s no shame in it.”

Silence tentatively slunk back into the space around the two men, curled up, and took a quick nap. Roy, in the meantime, looked inconsolable. He fidgeted and worried his lower lip until it turned red, black eyes unable to focus on any one thing for long. When Maes couldn’t take it anymore, he poked his friend rather hard in the side to bring him to attention.

“For God’s sake, Mustang, get a grip. It’s not the end of the world. All that this means is that you have one more thing only I know about you, and a lot of disappointed women in your wake. I’ve never seen a single one come back to complain, so it must not be too bad.”

“They did mostly take it pretty well,” Roy admitted. “There was only one who didn’t. She laughed and told me she could recommend some good doctors if I was having ‘trouble.’”

Maes winced a little. “Ouch. That’s definitely not the problem, though, right?”

“GOD no. It’s not the lack of ability, and I did want some of them more than others, it just never felt…right.” The alchemist struggled for the words to describe what he meant. “Whenever I was close to letting things go farther, I’d end up thinking it would only be one time, that I might regret it once it was over, and I’d just freeze up inside. I didn’t want whoever it was at the time to feel like there was something wrong with *them*, so I’d just let the moment gradually burn out. There were never any hard feelings. I never dated the spiteful types.”

Hughes shook his head in disbelief. “Incredible. Roy, you’re a paragon of virtue, and nobody knows it.”

“I am not. I’m just a coward.” Roy raked a hand through his hair, something he only did when he was frustrated beyond words. “I can sugarcoat it however I like, and it still only amounts to me chickening out.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Well I would. I was just scared, Maes, scared that I’d find out afterward that it really wasn’t what I wanted at all, or that the woman in question would want more than I had to give her. I’m a craven coward, and that’s all.”

The investigator shook his head again, this time in mild exasperation. “Do you know what kind of man turns down a one-night stand?”

Roy turned tired eyes on him. “What kind, Maes?”

The taller man smiled. “A good one.”

The colonel couldn’t help himself. He returned the smile, albeit reluctantly, and finally relaxed, the tension draining out of him along with the anxiety. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Tranquility moseyed in to lie next to silence, which had been waiting patiently in the wings to reappear. Their combined presence got Roy to thinking. All his life it seemed, Hughes had been there, teaching him, helping him, getting him into messes and yanking him out of them with prodigious timing. They had grown up in each other’s company, and Roy had always looked up to his older friend. In the Academy, when Roy had been fighting to reach adulthood with all his might, Maes had been there to force him to slow down a bit and appreciate his adolescence. Maes himself was ever a child at heart, perhaps especially now that he had a child of his own to renew his zest for life.

Maes Hughes was Roy’s friend, but he was so much more than that. He was an instructor, a confidant, a father/brother figure, a fellow troublemaker, and a force of nature that pushed Roy along or simply let him cling to it until he could stand on his own again. He was everything Roy Mustang could ask for in a pal, and everything he knew he probably didn’t deserve.

Gratitude was something Roy did not often have time for, but he allowed himself the indulgence this time.

“Hey,” he said after a while, “Do you remember that time, back in basic training, when you told me sex only takes three minutes if you do it right?”

Maes snickered. “Yeah, and you actually believed me, you sucker.”

“You had no *idea* what you were talking about, did you?”

“Nope, but that didn’t stop you from buying it. You were pretty gullible back then, Roy.”

Roy smiled wryly. “I remember. You were constantly lying to me when we were kids; Grass is green because they water it with paint, isn’t that what you told me when we were little?”

“You believed that too.”

“Maes, I was *five*.”

“Yeah, and when I told you making love only takes three minutes, you were eighteen. And you *bought* it. I was laughing behind your back for days.” Hughes grinned broadly, as though he would start laughing about it again.

Roy mock-glared and punched the other man in the arm, inducing a wince. “Yes, it was hilarious. Ha-ha.” He paused, brow furrowing slightly as a thought occurred to him. “So…how long does it really take? And don’t lie to me; it’s a delicate question.”

“It takes as long as you want it to,” Maes answered honestly. “But you know, if you really care for someone, then ‘making love’ to them is something you do every minute of every day. It’s not all about the sex; it’s a process, and it doesn’t end outside the bedroom.”

“Sounds complicated.”

“It is,” Hughes replied. “But it’s worth it.”

The Flame Colonel blew out a soft puff of air, idly watching his bangs flutter as a result. They were due for a trim, he noted. “I suppose you would know, being happily married. I’ve yet to find someone like Gracia to settle down with.”

“I don’t know if Gracia is your type. Maybe someone more like Riza....”

Roy paled slightly at the mention of his stern lieutenant. “Granted, she’s beautiful, and I do care about her, but I’m not sure courting her would be safe. She tends to get an itchy trigger finger when I flirt with her.”

“That’s probably because she thinks you’re just messing with her,” Hughes pointed out.

“I…I don’t know. She’s just so ‘by the book.’ I can’t imagine her of all people finding out I don’t know a damn thing about intimacy.” Roy shivered. “I think I’d die of embarrassment or nerves, whichever gave me an aneurism first. I can’t do it. The very prospect terrifies me.”

Hughes loved being married, and the idea of his best friend never knowing the special kind of bliss that came with happy-couple status pained him. Yet it was glaringly clear that Roy, with his somewhat control-freak attitude, would never make a move on the one woman who was more than perfect for him. He was petrified of screwing up in front of Riza Hawkeye, and that was understandable. The blonde, militant female admired Mustang on occasionally unhealthy levels, and having her see him as less than competent was not a thing Roy could handle. Despite the image he projected on a daily basis, Roy was actually a rather fragile being when it came to emotions—and his ego.

Therefore, Hughes realized if he wanted Roy to, as he had so often encouraged, “get himself a good wife,” he would have to take matters into his own hands.

/It’s for a good cause,/ he told himself, and nodded to make it official.

“It seems to me,” he told Roy, “That the only thing holding you back is inexperience. What you really need in order to move forward with courting Riza—or anyone—is a good, solid dose of knowledge.”

The colonel cast him a withering look. “So what, I should suck it up and sleep with the next woman I date? I already explained why I can’t do that.”

“Well, not exactly.” Maes scratched at a sudden, mysterious itch at the back of his head, and did a clinical study of the ceiling (which needed to be painted a more soothing color than stark, blinding white, he discovered). “I was actually thinking, since it’s more convenient, and since it’d likely be less nerve-wracking for you, that maybe…I could teach you.”

Tranquility fled, yelping in indignation, as silence bit it on the butt and expanded to fill the room with its abruptly stifling presence. Roy turned to stare at Hughes like the older man had just flippantly suggested he don a sequined dress and take up a career in tap-dancing.

“Now, I know it sounds strange,” Maes pressed. “But think about it. First, I’m your best friend, so you know my intentions are good. Second, I’m married, so I obviously don’t have any designs on you, or any reason to form unwanted attachments. And third, we’re both men, so you can trust me not to do anything to you I wouldn’t like myself. It’s the ideal situation.”

“Maes,” Roy said slowly, “You just named all the reasons I *wouldn’t* consider this ideal in any way; you’re my friend, you’re married, and we’re both men. Are you insane?”

“No, I don’t think I am,” Hughes answered reasonably. “If you honestly consider it, you’ll see I’m right. You won’t find a better opportunity to learn.”

Too stunned to argue, Roy just gaped at him for a while. Then he looked away, conflict flitting through his dark eyes as he thought about everything Maes had said. On the one hand, it just sounded so bad. On the other, Maes had made some definite points. He never would find a better opportunity than this to learn, or anyone he trusted and liked more to learn from. A nervous little thrill ran up his spine, and he realized then that he would go through with it.

“Okay,” he said quietly. “Just…be careful.”

Hughes chuckled. If Roy had said “Be gentle with me,” he didn’t think he would have been able to keep from guffawing. And that would most certainly have ruined the mood before he could even begin to cultivate it.

“Well,” he said, standing up and pulling Roy up too, “The first thing is to move this out of the living room. We don’t want your first time to be on the couch; the back cramps you’d have in the morning would ruin the experience.”

“Back cramps? Maes, how hard were you planning to be on me?”

“Relax, Roy. Just follow me, and you’ll be merrily deflowered before you know it.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


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