jarnsaxa

Part 2

Riza Hawkeye was not surprised to discover that when she and her teammates returned from their lunch break, the door into her superior’s inner office was still locked.

“Chief’s not back yet, huh?” Havoc asked as he placed his half filled coffee cup on his desk and sat down.

Riza snorted and went to her own desk to pick up the phone. She dialed a number and sent a loathing glare towards Mustang’s door while waiting for the other person to pick up. Havoc was watching intently, obviously wondering who she was calling. His curiosity was soon satisfied.

“Lieutenant Ross. Yes, it´s Hawkeye.” Riza looked down at her desk and gripped a pen while she looked over some of the forms in front of her. “Yes, please do. I know he has an appointment with doctor Streng after his break.” Whatever Maria had to say, Hawkeye’s lips curved up slightly in response. “Yes. And I believe he will probably visit Lieutenant Colonel Hughes once his medical checkup is completed.” Hawkeye listened for a moment, and then smiled maliciously, causing every male in the office to wince as unobtrusively as possible. “You can bring it over about one hour before his shift ends.”

Hawkeye placed the receiver.

“Paperwork?” Breda guessed, and Riza smiled coldly before nodding.

“Two stacks.”

Damn, if Hawkeye considered them ‘stacks’, it had to be bad.

“Is that really necessary?” Fuery dared to asked, his sympathies clearly on his superiors side, the loyal fool.

“Yes.” Hawkeye nodded before quickly reorganizing the files on her desk. “I´ve got some training sessions booked at the shooting range this afternoon, so I have arranged for Lieutenant Ross to deliver the paperwork. It’s-“ She stopped at the sound of a door being unlocked.

Everyone froze. All eyes shot to the door to Colonel Mustang’s office.

“No way! He was here during his break? He’s never -“ Havoc started, then stopped as his commanding officer stepped into full view.

Havoc’s jaw dropped. Then his face flushed a deep red. Beside him, Falman let out a suspicious cough, the only indication that he might have noticed his commander’s untucked shirt and the sizable tent in his pants. The Flame Alchemist’s kiss-swollen lips were also hard to overlook. In fact, Roy Mustang looked very much like a teenager after a heavy make out session.

“Holy sh-“ Breda started and interrupted himself, his eyes wandering to the door Roy had closed behind himself.

“Sir, maybe you should have waited until you are more presentable before leaving your office.” Riza advised, as unimpressed as if this was an everyday occurrence.

Mustang cleared his throat.

Breda’s eyebrow went up. “Is Ed in there?” he asked, eager for an answer. The rest of the staff looked the door as if they could make it disappear if they stared hard enough.

“Don´t go in there.” The Colonel ordered in his best ‘I’m your superior and you better obey me’ voice.

“Yes Sir,” Havoc said, and Breda grinned.

“Sir, Lieutenant Ross will deliver some paperwork for you later,” Riza said, all business. “I´ll be at the shooting range.” She sent him a glare that clearly outlined her thoughts on his leaving for lunch early, with mountains of paperwork left undone. “For practice.” Narrowed eyes suggested that she would be getting more practice later if he didn´t finish that paperwork.

Mustang groaned and started to tuck in his shirt. It was messy, but it would do till he reached a bathroom.

“Please give Doctor Streng a call and tell him I´ll be a few minutes late.” he asked her, and both Havoc and Breda tried not to snicker. The doctor would certainly be delighted to see him in such a state. Hawkeye only nodded and reached for her phone.

Mustang nodded and strode out of the office, ever the superior military officer despite the still noticeable bulge. Thankfully, the men’s restroom was not far away.

The moment the Flame was out of the office, the snickering began again as the men eyed the door to the Colonel’s inner office. Unable to contain his curiosity, Havoc finally stood up, marched over and reached for the doorknob as the others held their collective breath.

The distinctive sound of a gun’s safety being unlocked broke the weighted silence.

Havoc froze on the spot.

“I just -“ he started, but Hawkeye interrupted him.

“I believe you were given an order, First Lieutenant,” she stated crisply.

Cursing silently, Havoc returned to his desk. He received a sympathetic smile from Breda, who was just as curious as he was. The office remained silent, all eyes on Mustang’s door, waiting for whoever was in there to make an appearance.

They didn´t have long to wait. The door opened again not five minutes later, revealing a rather uncomfortable looking Edward Elric. He did not have the same problem their superior had sported, but nevertheless, he looked almost worse for the wear than Mustang had.

Havoc’s eyebrow went up as he examined the blond.

Ed’s hair hung loose around his shoulders, and despite obvious efforts to straighten it, was still disarranged. The young man’s belt was fastened loosely and had missed running through one loop of his pants. He wasn’t wearing his gloves either, though Havoc could see the white fabric peaking out of a trouser pocket.

If Edward were as relaxed as Roy had been, it wouldn´t have been so bad. But the moment he spotted them, the blond’s face became a rather impressive shade of red and his automail hand nervously rubbed his neck.

There was no way, they were not going to tease him about this. And everyone, including Ed, knew it.

The only thing Havoc still wondered about was just what exactly had happened – and if it was enough to proclaim Roy Mustang the loser of the bet. Before he could even begin to think about how to get this out of Ed, Riza Hawkeye cleared her throat. Edward’s golden eyes shifted to her, away from the leer he was receiving from Breda and the knowing look in Havoc’s eyes. At least Fuery had the decency to keep his eyes on his paperwork, beet red himself.

“Hello, Edward.” Riza smiled warmly, and Havoc instantly knew he wouldn´t have to worry about finding out if they won the bet – Hawkeye was taking care of it.

“Uhm.. hey.” The blond returned, rather hoarsely.

Her eyes looked him up and down, slowly appraising his appearance, and the alchemist shifted, uncomfortably self aware. It probably would have been funny, because Havoc had never seen Ed acting like this, but he’d be damned if he laughed at the younger man. The Second Lieutenant had been put on the spot too many times to want to inflict that kind of punishment on Ed, and he hoped he could keep himself under control. He was still dying to know about the bet’s status however, and the ball was still in Riza’s court. When Ed swallowed hard, Hawkeye’s eyes narrowed.

“Should I send in the cleaning staff, Edward?” she asked, no mocking trace of humor in her voice whatsoever.

He couldn’t help himself. Havoc burst out laughing. Breda chuckled as well, and Fuery winced. Falman blinked, probably trying to recall which form would be required to requisition the services of someone with disinfectant cleaning supplies.

Edward flinched and blushed even more.

“Uhm… no?” He let go of his neck and started to comb his fingers through his hair.

“Where is your hair tie?” Breda asked with a knowing grin, then flinched at the glares he received from both golden and brown eyes. While Ed clearly was not happy to be asked this, Riza obviously didn´t like to be interrupted while she was attempting to find out what happened.

“Lost it.” The alchemist grimaced, then looked to Riza. “Do you have a spare?” he asked hopefully.

The blond First Lieutenant nodded and fished a tie out of her desk to hand to the alchemist, and Havoc made two mistakes.

One, he started to drink his coffee as Ed took the tie.

Two, he watched while the man gathered the blond strands into a ponytail.

Coffee snorted from his nose across the paperwork on his desk. Breda let out a high whistle and Fuery squealed. Even Falman stared, his face gaining some suspicious color. Riza blinked. Being on the left side of the alchemist, she did not see what had provoked such reactions. Ed froze, puzzled.

“Damn, Boss. Did the chief attack you or something?” Jean asked as he blotted coffee from his chin. He reached for the collar of Ed’s turtleneck to get a better look, but the younger man batted his hand away and turned to Riza. The woman stared.

“Hawkeye, do you have a mirror?” Edward asked, remarkably calm.

Riza had leaned to the left to get a better look at Ed’s abused neck, and Havoc had to admit … it was impressive. He wondered how many minutes his superior had needed to make such a mess of Ed’s skin.

“First Lieutenant?” Ed repeated, bringing the woman back to reality from her examination of his throat. Trying to fight the blush, she quickly pulled the top drawer open and held up a little mirror.

Ed took a full minute to observe the damage. He carefully touched his neck and winced. The rest of the office winced as well when Edward carefully pulled the collar a bit lower. And they did so again when they heard his voice.

“I´m going to kill that fucking Bastard.”

_______________________

Unaware of the rage he had awoken, the fucking Bastard - with the capital B - listened to Doctor Streng’s lecture about punctuality. He had indeed arrived rather late for his medical checkup, but thankfully without a boner, which was quite an accomplishment. Even more so, since he felt absolutely smug about having reached his goal without the general having done the same.

And listening to the doctor was a good thing. As a doctor in both mental and physical matters, Streng was pure business. The man was almost as work-obsessed as Falman and Hawkeye combined, and that was saying something. He was strict, regimental, and not to be triffled with, but he could also be trusted never do anything not necessary for medical purposes.

So, no nurses with short skirts. No pretty secretary. Streng had chosen his staff based on efficiency. Which also resulted in the fact that he worked them to the bone. The deep circles beneath the secretary’s eyes were less than attractive, and the woman was obviously in need of a break. Thankfully, when her chief came out of his office to lecture Roy about his lateness, he took one look at her and ordered her to take one. The doctor might have been obsessive, but he did care about his staff, and insisted that they take care of themselves.

Each time he was here, Roy wondered why the man didn’t get more staff so the work load would be better balanced, but currently he was benefiting from the fact that the usually pretty nurse had pale skin, glassy eyes, and had fingernails bitten down to the quick. While taking his blood sample she had bitten her lip, reminding Roy of Ed. But she couldn´t really hold a candle to the lively alchemist, especially not in this condition. So all Roy had to worry about was how many tries she would need to insert the needle into the blood vessel. He shouldn´t have been surprised that she managed it on the first.

There were a few absolutely wonderful things about Doctor Streng and his working ethic.

One, when the man examined him, there was absolutely nothing sexual about it. Roy was nearly naked of course, but Streng didn´t give a damn as long as there was no visible evidence of disease. The doctor did not see a dick or testicles as something that could awake pleasure. He saw them as a potential for sexually transmitted disease.

The second good thing about Streng and his methods was the fact that it was rather difficult to feel anything remotely related to arousal when dressed in an open back hospital gown. Streng didn´t give a shit about rank. He was the doctor and this was his domain. It didn’t matter if his patient was a private or a general, all had to wear one of these things to be examined. And of course, it was hard to flee while your ass was on display. Roy never felt the need to run from the man, but he heard stories. The higher the rank, the more widely spread the story. It seems that the radius of rumor spreading was directly related to the rank you held. And running through the halls of headquarters with your ass exposed was an embarrassment most would hesitate to risk.

Streng wasn´t a psychologist for nothing, even if most people tended to forget about that bit.

“So far, the results are as expected,” the doctor summarized. “We will of course have to await the lab results of your samples.”

Once again, Roy wondered why his enemies had arranged to reschedule his appointment. Any visit here was one hell of a turn off. First, there was having to strip down in the cold glare of the doctor’s office, replacing the comfortable security of his uniform with the dubious coverage of the hospital gown. Next there were the blood samples, and then… well, there was nothing at all erotic about a grumpy nurse telling you to pee into a plastic container, sending you off to a small, cubical bathroom with a cold floor and occasionally flicking light. Then that same sleep deprived woman accepted the result, even more grumpy that the container was no longer as clean on the outside as it had been before. Women probably didn’t know how difficult it was to aim into those damn things, so Roy didn’t take it personally when the nurse made a show of putting on fresh gloves after receiving his sample.

Roy was ready to leave. He wanted to change back into his uniform and feel like a human again, instead of a medical examination object with freezing feet. But Streng made no move to dismiss him, instead placing his pen on the table and pulling out a fresh pair of latex gloves.

Roy blinked. He was sure they had completed the normal routine.

“Doctor?” he asked, feeling a distinct sense of doom.

Streng stopped for a moment and frowned. “I suspect Nina has not informed you of the recent senior staff meeting and the new regulations,” the man said.

Nina? Ah, the nurse. That would explain the evil glint in the woman’s eyes. Shaking his head, Roy had the sneaking suspicion that he was about to discover the reason why his appointment had been rescheduled.

Streng huffed in a show of disapproval. “Well, there is a change in routine,” the man explained as he motioned for Roy to the examination table. The Colonel didn´t move and Streng huffed again. “It has been brought to the attention of several generals that the age of fifty is sometimes too late for one particular preventive examination,” the doctor explained, and the alchemist’s eyes went wide.

Fifty? That was the age that they began to examined your... Oh no.

Streng placed a tube of Vaseline on the table.

Roy paled.

No way! He still had years to go before that. Hughes couldn’t have convinced some higher up to reschedule that particular examination. They were going to kill him if they found out!

“One general in particular seemed worried on the behalf of staff younger than fifty, so it was decided that there would be an examination every two years for all male officers between twenty five and forty, and an annual check for men forty and up.”

That must have been General Arschloch. Damn asshole.

Roy stood up, but certainly not to go to the examination table. He wanted to flee. The door was locked. His eyes darted to his clothes draped over a chair, but suddenly remembered taking his gloves off back in his office when he began making out with Ed. They were still there, discarded somewhere in his office room, far out of reach. Running for it was his only hope.

“Colonel Mustang.” The doctor’s icy voice stopped him. Roy turned around to see the man pull on the gloves. They were standard rubber examination gloves, no arrays stitched on them, nothing overtly dangerous about them, but the Colonel still felt threatened.

“May I remind you, that as a military officer you are expected to follow procedure?” The doctor asked.

Roy didn’t move. Streng’s eyes narrowed.

“You are currently out of uniform,” the doctor reminded, but he had obviously forgotten just who it was he was talking to. Roy only shrugged, unimpressed at the thought of displaying his naked ass to the rest of the military. At least his ass was nice to look at.

Streng sighed the sigh of someone who felt a headache coming on.

“This examination is going to take place. Your only choice in the matter is whether this -“ he held up the Vaseline. “-is going to be warmed up before the examination or not.”

“There will be no examination,” Roy growled.

No way was Roy going through with this. Although he was sure a medical examination was not the kind of penetration that would directly result in his losing the bet, he certainly did not want find out how his body reacted to the direct stimulation of his prostate. No matter how professional Streng was. And especially not after the strange hallucinations he’d had that morning, and of course the fact that he’s had to be very late for this appointment while he waited for the general to calm down after making out with Edward.

No way in hell.

He would defend his ass. Even though he now knew he was bisexual and there would probably come a time when he would want someone in there. But now was not that time. He would defend his ass. Let the battle begin, he was ready for it. He might not have his gloves, but surely he was stronger than Streng.

They stared at each other, neither one backing down. Then Streng sighed again before he introduced Colonel Roy Mustang to the real reason why not a single soldier ever managed to escape him.

“It also is your choice whether or not I ask for Major Armstrong to restrain you during the examination.” An evil grin formed at the doctor’s lips when he saw the color drain from his patient’s face. “And I would also like to remind you that within these examination rooms, anyone who is not staff – and that includes the major, even though he would not be here as a patient – is required to wear a hospital gown.”

Oh god. And to think that Roy considered the man a consummate professional! How could a man in Streng’s position sink so low as to order something like that? One look at the doctor’s face, and the thought of just how many officers had failed to escape the man over the years, and Roy knew Streng would not hesitate to do as he threatened. Roy shuddered.

“Now, Colonel. Would you please step over to the examination couch and bend forward?” the doctor asked almost kindly as he opened the Vaseline tube.

Tbc.

_____________

Once again, I´m sorry for the long wait ^^ I hope you guys are still with me :D

A bit of information: Cameron is that tiny dot just below “East Area” where no road leads to on this map.

Now, I hope you had fun reading :D I´ll wish you guys a nice weekend ^^