Reticence

Title: Reticence
Pairing: Hughes/Roy
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Pre-series military academy stuffs
Word Count: 3,518
Disclaimer: Don't own FMA/not profiting


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Private Roy Mustang had been up until curfew studying. It was late in the year and time for the alchemists at the Amestris Military Academy to start honing their personal techniques and choosing a signature style, but at 2130 hours, a half an hour before lights out, he started to get a little worried. It was a Monday for God’s sake; what could his dorm mate possibly be doing out that late on a Monday?! The last time the irresponsible bastard had missed curfew, Roy had to do forty pushups and three nights – in a row! – of night watch!

Roy hadn’t even been the one that broke curfew that night. If he was going to be punished for something, he was a firm believer in making it at least worth the trouble. At 2140 hours, he started to get angry, by 2150 hours he started to plot the untimely demise of said dorm mate and at 2156 hours, when that very same dorm mate all but crashed through their door, panting through a huge grin, Roy was ready to do away with the overcomplicated plans and just strangle him. Or, maybe, he could test out his new technique… either way, the guy would get it.

It had all worked out, though. Private Maes Hughes had made it in before curfew and had managed to get himself in bed just in time for lights out. Not without some heavy glaring and grumbling on Roy’s part, however, which whispered clearly through the darkness of their small dorm room.

“I don’t know why you feel the need to do this to me all the time, Hughes. You know, last time you missed curfew, I nearly flunked my alchemy exam; I was so tired. Three nights of patrol in a row! And I didn’t ev–“

Roy’s rant was cut short momentarily as the floor’s patrolman checked in on their room to make sure they were properly in bed at the proper time. They both feigned sleep as the shadowed private shined his lantern into the room, making sure that those lumps in the small beds were humans and not cleverly piled pillows. Roy couldn’t tell who was on duty that night due to the hallway backlighting, but it didn’t really matter either way.

“What was I saying?” Roy asked absently once the coast was clear.

“And I didn’t even do anything!” Hughes mimicked, turning his voice high and whiney, much to Roy’s annoyance. “Come on, Roy. A ‘D’ is good for the soul. Builds character! Besides, you’re going to change your tune once you find out what kept me out so late.”

Roy snorted skeptically, but he had to admit he was curious. Hughes always had one interesting thing or another that he loved to show off given half a chance. If the guy wasn’t so goofy about it, Roy might have thought it was an ego thing, but really, Hughes was just happy to share in his wealth, however small or… strange it was.

Something flopped from Hughes’ side of the room and landed on the end of Roy’s bed, so he lit his small lantern and set the wick low in order to see it. It was dim enough that the light wouldn’t be easily visible under the crack in their door, but just bright enough to see what Hughes had thrown. Roy’s jaw dropped.

“Where did you get this?!” he asked excitedly. “You know, if Matterly catches you with this…”

“He’ll keep it for himself,” Hughes finished for him with a snort. “Look, quit worrying so much! Enjoy! I got that one for you! You better take advantage of it now, though; we’ll have to get rid of them before inspection.” He finished, climbing out of his bed and into Roy’s, bringing with him his own copy of Pulse, one of Amestris’ only pornographic magazines.

Roy gaped as his roommate padded across the floor, wondering what in God’s name Hughes thought he was doing. Just looking at the magazine with someone else in the room was awkward enough. Why the guy had to be in his own bed was beyond Roy’s comprehension.

“If I turn on my lantern,” Hughes helpfully explained as he settled up against the wall bordering Roy’s bed, “the patrol will see it. Yours isn’t bright enough on that side of the room.”

Despite Hughes’ perfectly logical reasoning, Roy’s expression did not change.

“So. We. Should. Share. Light,” Hughes enunciated slowly, attempting to further explain himself, but Roy understood just fine; he was a smart kid- top in his class. If it wasn’t for his carefree roommate’s incessant need to test the limits of his ‘Sprinting-into-bed-before-the-night-watch-catches-me’ skills, his grades would be perfect. It wasn’t a matter of comprehension; it was a matter of downright awkward.

It didn’t seem to affect Hughes in the slightest, though. He had already started to flip through the glossed pages, purposefully ignoring Roy’s shocked gaze in favor of admiring the girls in too much makeup and too little clothing… which was to say that they wore none.

Though, really, what difference did it make which bed the guy was in? Roy wouldn’t have had an issue if Hughes had stayed in his own, and it was only six feet away. Mind over matter, or something to that general effect. Logic, Roy. Proximity does not detract from the fact that you still would have done it.

Roy’s expression hardened in determination and his eyes trailed down to the magazine in his own hands. There was a buxom blonde on the cover, wearing a dangerously low cut blouse and bending over, displaying her deep cleavage for the world to see. She looked delicious. He shrugged inwardly and opened the magazine, coming to the very quick conclusion that it was a lot better than the alchemy texts he had himself poring over all night and that he could really care less where Hughes was in their room.

After making it past the first set of pictures and taking in a particularly spicy reader-submitted story, Roy started to feel a little uncomfortable. Had he been alone, he would have been able to relieve his discomfort easily (and expertly, because, boy, was he a pro), but with Hughes around, it was kind of out of the question. His only option would be the bathroom, though getting up in the middle of looking at a nudie magazine was kind of obvious.

Roy weighed his options. He could stay in bed and follow Hughes’ lead, or he could get up and take care of business himself. If he waited, however, he risked being caught by the patrolman. Regulation stated that all night patrols must check up on all dorm units at least twice a night and the time between checks varied to keep the cadets from learning the schedule and using it to their advantage. Roy and Hughes hadn’t been reading for too long, but Roy knew that, eventually, the patrolman from earlier would be back. If he put off the inevitable for too long, he would get caught. The patrols on his floor had a habit of exceeding their commander’s minimum expectations—it was easier to stay awake all night if you made more rounds.

Being caught looking at porn with another male in his bed was not exactly on his agenda, but, damn, was it ever going to be embarrassing getting up from that bed. He only wore boxers to sleep and they didn’t leave much to the imagination even when he wasn’t as hard as a rock, but, unfortunately, it was his only viable option. So, Roy flipped off his covers and swung his legs down to the floor quickly, being sure to hide the obvious erection in his shorts with his open magazine.

“Where are you going?” Hughes asked, peering at him over his glasses.

“m’goin’ to the bathroom,” Roy muttered, rising to his feet and heading in its direction. Luckily for him, his blush was hidden in the dimness of the lantern light.

“Are you crazy?” Hughes replied calmly. “You know they’ll hear you in there. It’s supposed to be lights out, remember?”

While the dorm rooms at the military academy only accommodated two people, the bathrooms accommodated two rooms, and were placed between them for dual access. It was unnerving having to deal with three pairs of ears listening with amusement every day. Teens were teens and boys were boys; any childish noise was always ridiculed relentlessly. He had to take care of business like that in the shower, where there was enough ambient noise to drown out the whimpers and moans and sounds of flesh slapping flesh. It didn’t take him long to figure out that just doing it over the toilet would grant him weeks of teasing.

“Just do it in here,” Hughes continued, turning his eyes back to his magazine. “It’s not like we’ve never seen each other naked before, Roy.”

Roy’s face turned a shade of crimson that the lantern light could not hide. “WHAT?” he yelped.

”SHHHH!” Hughes hissed. “You want the patrolman to come in here and see you with that?!”

Roy’s mouth shut with an audible pop and he looked down, unsure of whether Hughes was referring to his magazine or his erection. “What do you mean ‘do it in here’! Showering does not equal… this!” he elaborated quieter, but Hughes just rolled his eyes and continued appreciating his magazine.

Roy fidgeted in his spot for a few moments and then flopped back down onto his bed, boring holes into Hughes’ face with his eyes for any reaction. It was true, he had seen Hughes and many of his other fellow enlisted naked in the shower. Every single shower he took in boot camp was a communal one, but it wasn’t like he looked or anything. He wasn’t gay, and doing that in the presence of another guy was seriously pushing his limits.

He needed to so badly, though. If he didn’t do something about the throbbing in his shorts soon, he was going to sorely regret it in the morning. So Roy, flustered and unsure, scooted his back against the wall just like his roommate and continued perusing his magazine, flicking his eyes over to Hughes every now and again, trying to gauge his reactions. Reading Hughes when he wanted to be difficult, however, was like reading a blank piece of paper and as time passed, Roy seriously started to doubt his convictions. Which of his convictions he doubted exactly was not the issue, but there was definite uncertainty roiling through his belly, bubbling up from between his legs like an underground spring of impatience and mania.

“Well,” Roy started tentatively after a time, trying to play it cool, “are you?”

Hughes shrugged his shoulders loosely and they both went back to their magazines, Roy hoping that his friend would make the first move.

After a time, Hughes started to shift in his spot uncomfortably and Roy was about ready to pop. “Well, I mean… if you’re cool?” Hughes muttered over his glasses.

“Oh, you know, I’m fine,” Roy sputtered out a lot quicker than he meant to, trying to sound nonchalant, but just ending up overcompensating.

Hughes cocked an eyebrow and grunted noncommittally. Roy waited for something else from the guy, but he was offered no other word or expression, so he turned his attention back to his magazine and tried to ignore the near-painful throbbing between his legs.

It seemed like years turning to decades turning to centuries turning to millennia, but, in reality, it was only a few minutes. Roy’s cock screamed at him from the confines of his boxers and the more he thought about how much he wanted to touch himself, of how much he couldn’t in his right mind touch himself, the worse it became. Every slight shift and breath caused the fabric of his shorts to slide over the sensitive head of his erection and, as it dripped out precome, soaking into the fabric, the coolness of it against his hot skin made him nearly lose his damn mind.

His cock throbbed and twitched in time with his pounding chest as sweat trickled down the back of his neck in a slow, torturous slide. He breathed shallowly and quickly, trying not to move more than necessary, lest he tease himself further. Just when Roy felt he was about to burst into tears of frustration, Hughes leaned over to him abruptly, bumping their shoulders and nearly knocking the smaller teen over, “Whatcha’ lookin’ at?” he asked, peering at Roy’s magazine nonchalantly. “You’re still there?! You should check out the brunette on page thirty-seven!”

Roy gulped. He had already seen the brunette on page thirty-seven… twice. The brunette on page thirty-seven taunted him with her wide open legs, her bright red lipstick and her half-lidded eyes speaking entire novels of naughty things that only he could hear. He had to flip past her quickly so as to not be overcome by the urge to throw the magazine on the bed and fuck a hole in it.

“I, uh, I already saw her,” Roy stammered. “I’ve seen the whole thing, actually.”

Silence.

Roy lifted his eyes to Hughes, who watched him curiously, and a little part of him died of embarrassment when his roommate’s yellow eyes trailed down his body to his straining erection.

“So I see,” Hughes said, lifting his hand and moving to poke at the hardness beneath the wet spot on Roy’s shorts. “You’re leaking!”

Roy floundered and swatted his roommate’s hand away exasperatedly.

“Don’t- what- you can’t!” Roy sputtered hopelessly, ”What the hell are you doing!?”

Hughes’ lips, wet by his tongue, curled into a small smile and his rejected hand traveled down to his own lap, where it lightly rubbed the outline of his own erection.

“Why don’t you take care of it?” Hughes asked curiously, yellow eyes hesitating on Roy’s lap before flicking up to meet black ones.

“Because you’re in my bed,” Roy grated out through clenched teeth. How was it that Hughes was okay with this!? Forget everything Roy thought about the insignificance of proximity; the guy had to go!

“But I can’t see over there!” Hughes all but whined.

“You don’t need to see anything,” Roy hissed. “Use your imagination!”

“But why should I do that if I have this?” Hughes countered, gesturing towards the magazine in Roy’s lap… or maybe towards Roy’s lap instead. Roy didn’t want to think too much about which.

“Then, here! Take my lantern and go!” Roy growled, leaning over himself and reaching for his lantern on the nightstand. He stopped short when he felt a hand on his thigh.

Well, that answered that question. God, Hughes’ hand was so hot, it burned through Roy’s skin, straight through his leg, straight through the mattress and straight through the floor. Hughes’ touch could surely be felt all the way down the three-story building and into the basement, and for a startling, fleeting moment, Roy found himself wishing it would slide up his thigh and over and…

“But then you won’t be able to see,” Hughes said quietly, his voice so close, his breath ghosting over the pale teen’s skin.

Roy gulped again.

Hughes removed his hand (much to Roy’s shy approval and horny disappointment) and distanced himself, leaning back against the wall in the position he had been in before he decided to utterly annihilate Roy Mustang’s world, except his hand had snaked below the elastic band of his boxers. Beneath the thin fabric, Roy sweated over the bump of Hughes’ large hand sliding and squeezing ever so slowly. He tried not to stare, to avert his attentions back to his own magazine, but it was addicting watching those undulations, the points of his knuckles rolling as the ball of his palm massaged the head of his cock…

What was more attractive? Wantonly spread adult women or an unabashedly stroking teenage boy? It was a question Roy would never admit to asking himself and it had an answer that, as far as he was concerned, didn’t even exist.

Doesn’tmatter.Doesn’tmatter.Doesn’tmatter.Doesn’tmatter.

I’m not the one who started this. If he tells… he wouldn’t tell; I’d bury him. They’d believe me, right? They’d believe me. Of course.

If I could only…

Oh God.


Roy’s hand was in his boxers then, squeezing himself gently in all his hotwethard glory. Eyes sliding closed, hips swaying and rocking. He bit his lower lip softly and it rolled out from between his teeth, shined slightly with saliva, swollen and irresistible. When he whimpered quietly in his throat, Hughes’ breath hitched next to him and the mattress moved beneath him. Roy fought himself for control.

Don’t let go; don’t look. Eyes closed, deep breath, fuck. Faster, slower, right under the head, down at the base, pump and squeeze and twitch and oh…

His boxers were drawn over his erection and down. He was released, free to move as he pleased, to openly palm the head, swirling in the sticky fluid, to fist the shaft, to cup and roll his balls and how the hell did his boxers come off, anyway?

Didn’t matter. Who cared? It was so good, so hard. The brunette on page thirty-seven spread herself wide for Roy. She licked her fire-red lips and begged him to touch her, to Oh, fuck me hard! Her hands on his thighs were so hot, her breath through his pubic hair was so soft. Her tongue swirled over the head of his erection, licking the hole, tasting and teasing… so wet, so wet, yes…

The door creaking open? Well, that was loud.

Oh my God.

There was a crash and a scramble as Hughes fell off the bed and rushed to cover himself against the light of the lantern shining from their dorm room door. Roy was in a daze, his legs spread, back against the wall, head thrown back. He squinted into the light and realization set in, causing a flurry of action in all his limbs at the same time, though not exactly in the same coordinated direction. He nearly squeaked and flailed for cover, grabbing a pillow with one hand and his sheets with the other. He swung the pillow onto his lap, underestimating his strength, and it soared across the room, flying onto Hughes’ desk and knocking an empty inkwell to the floor.

The door creaked closed and then there was silence, but still light.

Oh god, oh God.

“So,” rang the light timbre of Private Jean Havoc’s voice behind the glare of the too-bright lantern, “I guess now we’re kind of even, huh?”

If Roy had thought of any kind of reply, his voice would have been too damned frightened to work properly anyway. From the floor, Hughes breathed shakily and Roy found a tiny bit of solace in that fact. The entire fiasco was all his fault; he had better damn well be scared.

Jean took a step further into the room, peering at the two crumpled forms and chuckling. He reached into his back pocket and tossed a scrunched, half-empty pack of cigarettes onto Roy’s bed, “I don’t tell anyone about your habits, you don’t tell anyone about mine, everyone’s happy.”

Being that tobacco as well as pornography, fraternization and homosexuality were strictly frowned upon to say the least, the stakes were hardly even, but Roy was not about to complain.

Wait a minute.

“This isn’t a habit!” Roy cried out too loudly. “He attacked me! No, he tricked me! I’M NOT GA--“

Hughes was on him in a flash, his hand clamped over the teen’s mouth, hissing at him to keep his voice down. Jean was beyond amused.

“You’ll probably want one of those when you’re done,” Jean grinned, gesturing towards the pack of cigarettes on the bed. “I guess I won’t have to worry about you two at the mixer next month, huh?” The tall blond finished with a wink, before turning to leave.

Roy continued to protest and flail, though the effectiveness of his cries was lost, muffled behind Hughes’ large hand. When the door clicked closed with finality and the room was once again bathed in shadow, Roy shoved at Hughes’ chest with a grunt.

“I thought you said I’d wake everyone up if I went into the bathroom, you son of a bitch!” he growled.

Hughes grinned his easy smile and shrugged smoothly before diving back into Roy’s lap, engulfing his still-hard erection in one fell swoop and effectively disarming him of all his anger. Roy gasped as all further complaints died in his throat.

Brunette on page thirty-seven, eat your heart out.


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When Roy’s body finished its shuddering and the keening whine faded from his throat, he absently released his grip in Hughes’ hair and silently thanked anyone listening for their friend’s indifference.

However, he was still going to show Jean Havoc.

Oh yes.

At that damn mixer, Jean Fucking Havoc would see exactly what it was he had to worry about.

However, until then, his feisty little brunette demanded attention.