Compromise Measure

Sensei 1/09

Warnings: Not romance, yaoi implications.

Author's Note: This is my first FMA smutfic. Hope you enjoy.

Compromise Measure

Lieutenant Hawkeye was shaking as she spoke, fighting to keep her voice calm and confident, her resolve firm. "I am ready, Sir." She was anything but.

"Good," Mustang grunted, rising from his chair, hands firmly on his desk. "It's long overdue."

"It is you who set the terms of our agreement, Sir," she added. Somehow, she hoped it would help to say it. It didn't.

"You don't have to remind me, Hawkeye." He headed to the window to darken the room and ensure the privacy they needed. Then he returned to his desk, picked up the telephone, and called Hughes.

Hawkeye swallowed hard and took out her handgun. It was in perfect condition. Clean, accurate, well-oiled, ready to fire. She rubbed the cool, smooth surface of the barrel as she listened to Mustang command Hughes to his office. She furrowed her brow. She must wait.

Whenever she contemplated the duty of following through with her promise to keep the Major in line or take him out, it was a simple either/or option of serving him or shooting him. She assumed she'd never truly do the latter, but if she did, it would be the action of a moment: looking the Colonel in the eyes, informing him that he had failed himself beyond redemption, and shooting. A one-woman firing squad with nothing but devotion to and admiration for her victim.

Life was far more complicated now than on the battlefield—and perhaps always had been. That fact was something Hawkeye never truly allowed herself to acknowledge. Even when Colonel Mustang explained the "compromise measure" he expected of her one late night as they completed a seemingly unending mound of paperwork with the aid of far too much coffee, his language and its implications were sufficiently vague for her to salute, agree, and push any uncertainty and discomfort away. The discussion was never repeated, and Hawkeye found it easy to dismiss…until today.

Moments earlier, Colonel Mustang reminded her of her pledge of that night, and it took serious, soldierly discipline not to let her jaw drop. Now it took all of her strength not to tell him she would prefer to just forgive the poor decision he had recently made regarding the Elric Brothers and their research into the Philosopher's Stone. Yes, they had been put in unnecessary danger and yes, he could have done more to protect them. Yes, she had chosen to call him on his failure and yes, she had vowed that when such comeuppances came from her mouth there must be repercussions. And no, this was not an offense worthy of shooting him. They both knew that. But this "compromise" clause. How happy she had been to forget it, and to trust he had too.

The abrupt knock at the door made her jump. Hughes burst through with a loud, smiling greeting and a slap on her shoulder. She yelped. She should have known he'd not only take this in stride but make a spectator sport of it. But then, it was Colonel Mustang who summoned him. As they saluted one another and Hughes' grin continued to spread, Hawkeye felt a twitch beginning between her shoulder blades.

"Colonel, Sir!" he snapped. "I am grieved to be summoned over such troubling circumstances." Wrapping an arm around Mustang's shoulder, his voice dropped, though the smile didn't. "I expected more from the future leader of our nation." He laughed, then smacked his superior on the ass for emphasis. Mustang grumbled and elbowed him in reply.

Hawkeye gasped at the exchange, despite herself. Hughes was always overly casual with the Colonel in official spaces, and now was not the time. All right, so the two clearly had a relationship that not only enabled but necessitated such…informality. But still… She bit her lip, thinking about how often she wished she could be a little more at ease with him but also knowing she did not want that. Even though it might help a lot right now. Then again, maybe this was all just a formal means of embarrassing her to death. She ejected the magazine from her weapon and dropped it on the desk.

"Check the chamber?" Hughes inquired, head cocked.

Hawkeye refused to react to the ridiculous question. She was just about to do exactly that. But he was making her so damned nervous—and, it seemed, intentionally so. She fidgeted with the weapon, fingers nervously working at far less than their usual precision. The task was simple, automatic, but under these conditions? This was far worse than warfare. It struck her: this was not war but a wargame, the kind boys loved to play and assumed girls would and could not. But Riza Hawkeye was not just any soldiergirl. She took a deep breath and met Hughes' bemused gaze with a steely glare that at last turned his smile down a few notches and compelled an apologetic shrug from his shoulders.

He turned to Mustang again. "Come on, big boy." He was once again chipper as he brought Mustang to lean against the desk and reached around to unfasten his trousers.

Hawkeye took her position behind them as she watched the Colonel allow himself to be…shamed. Bending over his desk with his pants around his ankles like that was surely enough punishment, wasn't it? But that was not the agreement. And his solemn willingness to take the position and hold it made his need for stronger measures plain. Hughes pressed down on his lower back as if they'd done this a hundred times and she would be damned if Mustang didn't make a soft, low sound in response. Arousal? No. It must be humiliation. Please let it be humiliation.

She stepped forward, trying not to seem hesitant or uncomfortable, gritting her teeth and determined not to fail in this ridiculous but somehow vital duty.

"Ah-ah-ah," Hughes scolded, holding up a warning finger as she was lowering her gun to Mustang's bare behind. She blinked up at him. He fished a little vial of oil from his jacket pocket and shook it gently at her. She looked down at her gun and grimaced, then blushed. Her automatic was precious to her. Always so clean and so well cared for. It hadn't occurred to her until this very moment that she was not only about to violate her superior officer but that it would soil her favorite weapon! She sighed, resigned to her fate, and allowed the smug Lieutenant Colonel to coat the barrel with the thick oil that smelled of almonds.

"Hmmm…it's wider than I thought, Lieutenant. I'm sure he can take it, though—it's not like he hasn't before, eh Colonel?" Hughes slapped Mustang again. The Colonel didn't flinch, but Hawkeye winced visibly.

"Shut up, sadist," Mustang snarled. "Why do you think I'm having her do it instead of you this time?"

The wargame was officially a surreal nightmare. Hazy suspicions of an intimate wartime relationship between the Lieutenant Colonel and the Colonel were becoming certain knowledge way too quickly. She began to sweat as, for the first time in her adult life, her gun hand began to shake. This she resented above all. Through clenched teeth, she ground out a one-word reply: "Bastards."

Grabbing the oil, she shoved Hughes out of the way. She put the greasy automatic on the desk for the moment, coated her fingers, and flushed hotly as she probed between Mustang's cheeks until she found his entrance, then plunged two fingers inside. He cried out then stifled himself by biting on his forearm. Hughes laughed openly. Hawkeye turned her head sharply and her eyes flashed at the Lieutenant Colonel, who was instantly silenced.

Working her fingers in and out in an act she had not only never committed but never even thought of committing, Hawkeye spoke with bravado born of necessity: "Colonel Mustang, Sir, you have misused my trust and embarrassed me before a fellow officer. I consider these measures necessary to regain my honor and to show you and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes that I am every bit as ruthless a soldier as you. And a damn sight more attractive when sodomizing a superior, Sir." She retrieved her gun from the table with her free hand and swapped its muzzle for her fingers, then began, with Mustang fighting back any sound of the pain he was no doubt experiencing, to bring him the punishment he so heartily deserved.

A slack-jawed Hughes shook his head, marveling in stunned silence at Hawkeye's unexpected but unsurprising prowess. They should have known.

~