Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Archer/Kimbly
Author: For-chan
Artist: Daeva
Theme: #16 Defying Gravity
Warnings: PG-13, abuse of paperclips!
Defying Gravity
Kimblee sighed as he added another paper clip to his chain. He added a paper clip for each time that Archer blatantly ignored his advances. So far, he had five hundred and thirty-six paper clips. Most of them were for some small flirt, sometimes subtle, sometimes more obvious, but each one flatly overlooked. He wasn't quite sure if Archer was being plain dense or ignoring him because of lack of interest. Colonel Frank Archer was not a stupid man. Kimblee was sure that Archer noticed. Archer was also not one to dance around the subject. If he wasn't interested in Kimblee, he would have no problem coming out and saying so. If he didn't know better, he'd say that he was being strung along. Unfortunately, he couldn't say. If Archer was playing with him, he gave no sign.
"Major Kimblee." Kimblee dropped his paper clip chain as he looked up. His heart jumped oddly as Archer stared down at him with his cold blue eyes. "Do you need something to do?" He asked, looking pointedly at the paper clip chain.
Kimblee winced. Archer hadn't seen the chain yet. He usually stowed it in the bottom drawer of his desk and only took it out when Archer wasn't around. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Sorry?" Archer questioned dangerously.
"Sir. Sorry sir." Kimblee added quickly. He was still getting used to addressing people as if he were the dirt under their shoes. Before he ended up in prison, he had enough culture and respect to speak to most officers as an equal. Hell, he'd had manners back then too, but ten years of sitting in a cell had peeled away the polish and left him a little rougher, a little less social than he'd been before.
"That's better." Archer nodded. "And since you seem to be lacking in work, why don't you take these down to Brigadier General Gran's office for me." He set a few slim file folders on Kimblee's desk.
"Yes sir." Kimblee stood up and picked up the folders.
"And on your way back, why don't you swing by the supply closet and get us some more paper clips, seeing as our current supply seems to be otherwise occupied." Archer tapped the paper clip chain pointedly.
Kimblee blushed slightly and nodded. "Yes sir." Kimblee clutched the folders tightly as he walked from the room. He could almost feel Archer's cold gaze following him out and he had to suppress the urge to shiver. Once in the hall, he still wasn't able to shake the chill of Archer's stare. Grumbling to himself, he made his way to Gran's office and left the folders with his secretary. On the way back, he ducked into the break room to grab a cup of coffee. After a few sips of the scalding hot sludge, he felt his body warming up. He dumped the rest of the swill into the sink and left his mug there, stacked with countless others. Someone would eventually wash them out, but it wouldn't be him.
He left the break room and headed for the supply closet. It wasn't actually a closet, it was more like a large room, but it was crowded with various supplies and dimly lit so it often got demoted to a closet in people's minds. As he walked in, he heard something suspiciously like a snore. Frowning, he walked towards the back of the room. Someone was napping sprawled out on a spare desk. Kimblee marched up to the desk and kicked it. Colonel Roy Mustang jerked up, looking around blearily. When he saw Kimblee he frowned.
"What do you want?"
"How the hell do you get away with sleeping in the supply closet all the time?" Kimblee demanded. Roy was a Colonel who was always off somewhere avoiding paperwork. Kimblee didn't exactly enjoy paperwork, but at least he got it out of the way as soon as he could. His swift efficiency occasionally earned him a small word of praise from Archer, but those were few and far between. More often than not, he just got sent back to his desk with a new project to work on.
Roy yawned. "I was tired. I needed a nap" He rubbed his eyes as he sat back on the desk.
"Maybe if you slept at night instead of whoring yourself out, you wouldn't be so damned tired." Kimblee crossed his arms and leaned against a nearby shelf, glaring at the other alchemist.
Roy snorted. "It's not whoring yourself out if it's only one person."
"A new one each night?" Kimblee smirked.
Roy glared back. "No, the same person every night."
"So that's why your second lieutenant is always falling asleep under the trees on his smoke breaks." Kimblee watched as Roy's cheeks heated up. Roy didn't bother denying it. Kimblee was already quite aware of the relationship that the Colonel had going with his subordinate. He'd walked in on one of their little displays of passion in this very room.
"He's young, he has a lot of stamina," Roy said defensively.
Kimblee held up his hands. "I don't need to know." His expression turned sour as he looked at the Flame Alchemist. Mustang got everything he wanted. He was steadily climbing the promotional ladder. He had women falling all over him but he had the lover of his choice sharing his bed at night. He was a little pampered golden boy and it really pissed Kimblee off.
"What's the matter? Things still not working with Archer?"
"No," Kimblee snapped.
Roy shook his head. "He's got to be straight. It's not like you've been subtle about this. Office gossip says he's all set to marry Gran's niece."
Kimblee scowled.
"You haven't heard that one yet?"
"I heard it. I just don't believe it. He hasn't said anything thing about it. He would tell me at least."
"Why would he tell you? He hasn't given you a clear yes or no to your advances, so why would he bother telling you if he's getting married. Other than work, you never see him. He's completely out of your league. Dining with the Brigadier General and rubbing elbows with other higher ups. Why settle for less when he has the best within his reach?"
Kimblee glared at Roy angrily. "I don't know. You tell me since you're already slumming."
Roy shrugged. "I like to do things my way. Archer, he does everything right. He pats the right backs, gives the right favors, plays his political chess just right. To follow that, he has to marry the right girl. It would be social suicide to do otherwise. He might be able to play the old marrying for love card, but I don't see him as much of a romantic, so I doubt that will happen."
"Are you telling me to give up? You think he's just going to marry Gran's niece, have two kids, a dog, and a white picket fence and that I should forget it?" Kimblee growled.
Roy hopped off the desk and brushed the dust from his uniform. "No. I don't think you should give up just because the rumor mill is turning. Like you said, he never gave you a yes or no, so you might as well keep trying until you get an answer one way or the other. I'm merely pointing out that you're reaching here. Archer thinks he's so much better than everyone else, even me." Roy scoffed slightly as brushed his shoulder stripes. He did have one more star than Archer and a whole lot more finesse if he did say so himself. "You have a lot of things working against you here. It's a little like fighting gravity. There are ways to get around it, but it's not exactly easy."
"Quit primping already you fag," Kimblee snapped, annoyed at how Roy kept rubbing the stars on his shoulder. If that damn stone hadn't driven him mad all those years ago, he'd probably be Roy's equal. He wouldn't be having this trouble snagging Archer. But he had snapped and he had been jailed and now Mustang was standing in front of him flaunting everything that he could be and wasn't.
Roy laughed. "It takes one to know one doesn't it?"
"I'm going to blow that smirk right off your face," Kimblee growled, clapping his hands together. He picked up a box of tacks and threw them at Roy. Roy dived as the box exploded, sending red hot tacks raining down on him.
"Dammit Kimblee!" Roy pulled on his glove. With a snap, a thin whip of fire was arching towards Kimblee. The Crimson Alchemist ducked aside, but not before the flames singed the shoulder of his jacket.
"Watch the hair Mustang!" Kimblee grabbed another box of tacks but Roy was already on his feet and ducking behind some shelves.
Kimblee tossed the box over the shelf. It exploded and Kimblee smirked when he heard Roy yelp.
"Shit! Hot! Dammit!"
Kimblee peered around the corner of the shelf. Roy was tugging his jacket off and pawing at his collar. He danced around ridiculously before a tack fell out of his partially unbuttoned shirt. Kimblee snickered.
"You burnt me!" Roy tugged down his collar, showing Kimblee the small red burn on his neck. "You fucking burnt my neck."
"What's the matter Flame Alchemist? Can't handle the heat?"
Roy flung his jacket at him. "You're a fucker," he said as he whapped him a few times.
"Better the fucker than the fuckee." Kimblee laughed as he pulled the jacket off of his head.
Roy yanked his jacket away. "Well, at least I'm getting fucked." Clearly annoyed, he pulled down his collar, showing him a mark on his neck that was most definitely not made by a hot tack.
"Well, sorry for being a little more subtle in my pursuits," Kimblee hissed, pushing him away.
"Sometimes subtle doesn't cut it." Roy shot back as he attempted to straighten out his shirt and re-button it. "Sometimes you just need to hit them over the head with the obvious. You should try it sometime. Maybe you wouldn't be such an ass if you got laid."
"Get the hell out of here before I start throwing more than tacks," Kimblee snarled.
Roy flipped him off as he turned and waltzed out of the supply room. Kimblee growled as the other alchemist left. He had a hard time refraining from chasing the other alchemist down and blowing up some vital anatomy. Instead, He reached up and tried to smooth back the hair. It was a lost cause without untying it and starting over again. Annoyed, he tugged out the wrapping and shoved it in his pocket. He'd fix it in the bathroom, but first he walked over and grabbed a box of paper clips before storming out of the supply room and slamming the door.
Archer glanced up at the clock and wondered where Kimblee had disappeared to. He'd only sent him down the hall to drop off some papers and to get a new box of paper clips. It shouldn't have taken him twenty minutes to do so. Annoyed, he stood up and walked to the door. He looked out into the hall, but saw no sign of his subordinate. He walked back into his office and picked up the phone. He called the Brigadier General's secretary to make sure that Kimblee had been there. The woman confirmed that she had received the files. Frustrated, Archer left the office and walked down to the break room. Mustang's Lieutenant Hawkeye was standing just inside the door.
"Have you seen Major Kimblee?"
She turned and shook her head slightly. "No sir. Have you seen Colonel Mustang?"
"No Lieutenant, I haven't."
She frowned. "If you happen so see him."
"I will send him along," Archer said.
She nodded. "Thank you sir. If I see Major Kimblee, I will let him know that you are looking for him."
Archer headed towards the supply closet next. As he turned the corner, he was nearly bowled over by a very rumpled Colonel Mustang. His hair was sticking out, his jacket was off and his shirt was unevenly buttoned, showing off a vivid passion mark on his neck. Mustang's eyes flicked up at him and the alchemist scoffed before stepping around him and stomping off. Archer sneered at the man's back before turning to continue his search for Kimblee. He didn't have to go far as Kimblee soon appeared from around the very same corner looking equally unkempt with his hair unbound and his jacket singed. Kimblee froze as he saw Archer.
Archer took in the sight of him, then rewound to go over Mustang's appearance. His eyes narrowed at the conclusion he arrived at. "Where have you been?" He asked Kimblee, his voice cold enough to freeze flames. He watched as Kimblee tensed up, his eyes darting away.
"I was in the supply closet," he said. "Sir."
"With Colonel Mustang?"
"Yes sir."
Archer scowled. "Exactly what were you doing in there?"
"I was getting paper clips sir."
Archer shook his head. "I know that. What were you doing with Mustang?"
Kimblee's eyes widened. "Nothing sir."
"It doesn't look like nothing to me." He reached up, grabbing a lock of Kimblee's loose hair and tugging it. He watched Kimblee's throat move as he swallowed nervously.
"We got in a fight sir."
"A fight? So that's what you call them these days. And this fighting of yours resulted in that mark on Mustang's neck?"
"No! I burned his neck, but I didn't make the other one," Kimblee explained.
"But you knew it was there. And you both look quite disheveled."
Kimblee shook his head. "No. He tore his jacket off after I hit him with a hot tack. We were really fighting. It's not like you're thinking at all," he insisted, frustrated.
"And what might I be thinking?" Archer asked, arching his brow.
"That Mustang and I were...messing around in the supply closet."
"And you weren't doing so?"
"No!" Kimblee exclaimed. "Mustang and I were not fooling around in the closet."
"Why should I believe you?" Archer asked. "You've been gone for over a half hour and the evidence is quite stacked against you."
"Mustang has a lover," Kimblee replied flatly.
"Rumor says that he has many, that doesn't seem to stop him," Archer countered.
Kimblee rolled his eyes. "And you believe everything you hear? Rumor says you're marrying Gran's niece."
It was Archer's turn to roll his eyes. It was true that he'd had dinner with the girl, but he had no intention of marrying that mulish creature. Gran had probably circulated the rumor to pressure him into taking her off his hands. "I am not marrying the Brigadier General's niece."
"And I am not messing around with Mustang."
"Why wouldn't you? He seems available enough." Archer smirked.
Kimblee stiffened. "My interest lies elsewhere."
"Oh? And where might that be?"
Kimblee shook his head. "If you don't know already sir, I won't spell it out." Kimblee stepped away. "If you'll excuse me, I need to straighten up."
"No. I don't think I will excuse you. It seems to me that no amount of fussing will straighten you out."
Kimblee froze. "Excuse me?"
Archer grinned. "You heard me Major Kimblee. No amount of fussing will straighten you out."
"That is none of your business sir. The Amestris Military operates under the Don't Ask, Don't Tell policy," Kimblee said coldly. "You are not allowed to ask and I'm not required to answer."
Archer smirked. "Humor me. You do swing that way don't you?" Kimblee kept his mouth firmly shut as he stared past Archer. "Because, if you did, I'd have a little something to say to you," he continued.
Kimblee looked up at him, gold eyes blazing. "What would that be sir?"
Archer pushed Kimblee back against the wall. His hands slammed on either side of the alchemist's head, pinning him down as he leaned close. "Don't you ever let me catch you in a closet with Mustang again," Archer growled into his ear. "You are mine."
The hands that Kimblee had been bringing up to push Archer away froze. He stared up at Archer in shock.
"You think I didn't notice?" Archer pressed closer to him. "But I did. I was waiting to see if you'd get bored. I wanted to make sure it wasn't just a whim. I wanted to make sure that you wanted it. That you wanted to be mine. Do you understand?"
Wide eyed, Kimblee nodded slowly, licking his lips where Archer's breath had whispered across them.
"Good." Archer pressed his lips to Kimblee's. They parted instantly and Archer eagerly pushed in to devour Kimblee with his kiss. The box of paper clips fell from Kimblee's nerveless fingers. It didn't matter, if this kiss was any indication, he wouldn't be needing them anymore.
The End
Omake
Roy yawned as he stumbled into the supply closet for his afternoon nap. He paused as he heard a strange noise. It sounded out of place in the typically silent room. He walked in, looking around a shelf and froze. On the desk he took naps on, someone was having sex! He stared wide eyed as Archer bent Kimblee over the desk and fucked him. Kimblee moaned, arching back into his superior. Archer began to thrust harder and Roy turned, rushing from the room. With the door firmly shut between himself and the two men, he paused. Looks like Archer wasn't so straight after all.
The End for Real ^_^;