Armstrong knew he was beautiful. He also knew that he was very large, obscenely strong, and sparkled fourth an aura that made both enemies and allies crumble before him. And while mostly he was proud of these things, for they were part and parcel of a family legacy to rival emperors, they also ... quite frankly... set him apart.
He was respected, but not loved. Appreciated, but not sought after. And while the others in the office spoke of dating and romance, Armstrong had to admit, in this he was lacking. The only one to look his way was his own sister, and while he had to admit she had the beauty, personality, strength and intellect to match his own, she simply WASN'T an appropriate bed partner. She needed to be free to perpetuate the legacy, for Armstrong knew he would not.
Armstrong was simply not that attracted to women.
A small biological flaw, if one could even consider it that.
And so it was on his 32nd birthday, after a delicious tea and energizing hunt through the ancestral woods bordering the estate, that Armstong considered his likely prospects for romance.
Edward and Alphonse were simply too young. Quite out. Plus they appeared to have each other. Mustang, while quite handsome, was rather too much of a cad. An Armstrong would not stoop to be just one on an ever growing list of conquests. Breda had an interesting personality, and his own brand of intelligence, but alas lacked in both physical conditioning and hygene. Farman was currently in a rather committed relationship, and while he had his own icy attraction, far be it from Armstrong to break apart a good thing. That left Havoc and Feury. Both equally without prospects.
Of the two of them Havoc seemed the better possibility. Older, taller, and physically more handsome, all those were pluses. But on top of that while Feury didn't date, he seemed CONTENT not dating, while Havoc was simply miserable, losing prospect after prospect to Mustang. It was enough to bring a tear to Armstrong's eye.
He simply had to convince the poor man that he was looking for love in the wrong places.
Thankfully, the Armstrong line maintained a magnificent library, one truly to rival any in Central, with every book written by one of the Armstrong family, dating back through the centuries. Such secrets were kept within, on every subject imaginable. There was an entire shelf devoted to the art of sex and seduction, and Armstrong had dutifully read and memorized it.
Havoc would be quite thankful, of this Armstrong was sure.
Ordinarily, one would woo one's romantic prospects. Wining them and dining them, and moving smoothly up the ladder of intimacy from first tentative touches, to the final sweaty summit of union. Putting sex before romance was like trying to put the cart before the horse.
HOWEVER, an Armstrong relationship quite simply WASN'T a cart. It was more of a steam roller. Jean Havoc was unlikely to respond to the gentle hum of romance until Armstrong had completely flattened him with sexual bliss. In this the books were indeed quite helpful.
A small amount of deception, and a large amount of alcohol was recommended.
First of all, Armstong needed to have a reliable duty free afternoon and evening with the young man. Mustang seemed quite agreeable to helping, though Armstrong rather suspected Mustang had no idea what he was helping with.
"You think taking him to a bar will get him over his current funk?" Mustang said, glancing sideways out the window at Havoc moping on a bench outside the building. "Well, he's honestly quite useless to me as he is. Very well, it's so ordered."
"Thank you, very much, sir."
But Mustang had already moved on to something else and merely waved him out of the room.
Havoc was considerably less agreeable. Such was the curse of the Armstrong aura. "Er, it's not that I don't like you or anything. I just don't feel like going drinking right now. It's only two in the afternoon... that's all."
Armstrong patted the thinner man on his back. "Nonsense, you are miserable. Drowning ones woes in the presence of friends is a traditional way of coping with loss. Colonel Mustang has seen the wisdom in this and has already commanded it."
"Colonel Mustang interferes rather too much in my love life." But he followed Armstrong to the bar.
"I've never been here before," Havoc said after downing his first drink. "There aren't many women here are there." Actually, there weren't any, even the waiters were men. Probably because it was a gay bar, but Havoc wasn't drunk enough to be told that yet. Discretion was a trait that the Armstrongs took pride in.
"You are just getting over a painful relationship with a woman, I imagine it is soothing not to be reminded of her."
"Er. Sure." Havoc started in on his second drink.
By the third beer, Armstrong was able to coax the long, sad litany of Havoc's love life out of him. The poor man did not have trouble attracting young women—it was the keeping them that was the problem. How very sad. Well, at least Armstrong could be one lover that the Colonel would not steal off of Havoc. So Armstrong fervently vowed.
By the fifth beer, Havoc didn't seem to mind his company at all. In fact he bestowed a few friendly claps on his muscular arm when Armstrong told one of the jokes his family was famous for. Havoc laughed somewhat hysterically. "I never knew you could be funny."
"Laughter is the balm of life." And he went on to say a few more jokes.
By the seventh beer Havoc was loosing his train of thought. Armstrong considered the young man thoughtfully. It was time to move on to the second stage of seduction, and for that they would need privacy.
"Come, young Jean," said Armstrong. "My residence is not far away, we can continue our conversation there."
"Er... ok, bosh, " muttered Havoc and allowed Armstrong to lever a shoulder under his arm and help him out of the bar. It was not a coincidence that Armstrong's apartment was only a block away.
Havoc frowned a little in the elevator on the way to the penthouse. "Er, I think I should probably be heading home now."
"Nonsense," said Armstrong. "I would feel remiss if I sent you away in such a state. Please come sober up in my apartment. I have asprin and other remedies to soothe a hangover if such are needed."
"Uh... ok... I s'pose."
Havoc was quite pleasantly surprised by the opulence of the apartment. As a Major, Armstrongs military income was not nearly enough to cover such an expense, but family funds more than made up for it. Being in the military was not about money for Armstrong. It was about character building.
Armstrong explained this while easing the inebriated Havoc out of his coat and insisting the young man undo the first buttons of his the shirt beneath. Tight fitting clothes inhibited breathing, and air was needed to counteract the effects of the alcohol.
Armstrong regailed the man with a little of the wisdom of his fathers grandfather, who was quite a drinking man himself, but always managed to handle what came his way. Havoc appeared awed, or perhaps cowed. Sometimes it was difficult to tell those two emotions apart.
"I should head home now..." Havoc said. "I think I'm starting to get a headache."
"Allow me to show you a headache remedy my grandmother learned from the Xing," Armstrong rumbled. Havoc gasped a little when Armstrong loosened the laces on his shoes and popped them off. "It is called Reflexology. And it uses sympathetic points in the feet and other parts of the body, to relieve pain."
Havoc's eyes widened when Armstrong began massaging his feet. For a minute it seemed he was debating whether to run or to give in to the sensation. As always the supirior techniques of the Armstrongs won out in the end, and soon Havoc was slouching back in the couch nervelessly.
"You have a great amount of tension in you," Armstrong murmured, moving his hands up under the cuffs of the pants to massage the man's calves.
"Hard day. Hard week. Hard life," muttered Havoc. "S'nice."
"Take off your shirt," Armstrong insisted, "I shall show you the massaging technique developed by my grandfather thrice removed."
Havoc wasn't too sure about that, but didn't stop Armstrong from slipping his large fingers under the buttons of his shirt and efficiently popping them free. The undershirt followed. Armstrong warmed the oil in his hands before rubbing it into the young man's back. With a mixture of firm presses and gentle rubs he worked the knots on either side of the spine.
"Aw, man," Havoc said into the couch. "This is the best massage I've ever had."
"Of course," Armstrong said. "Massaging is taught to all Armstrongs from a young age."
"mmm...." Havoc appeared to be drooling into the couch. He suddenly stiffened and went "EEP!" when Armstrong wrapped his large arms under his waist and suddenly lifted. One hand reaching for the belt and deftly unbuckling it before Havoc could do more than say, 'Hey!"
"The lower muscles of your back are covered by your pants, we shall just loosen this a little and tug the fabric down so that I can continue."
Soon Havoc was relaxed and didn't seem to notice that Armstrong tugged his pants several times until they were past his buttocks and at mid thighs. The massage continued to turn him into pudding.
He did jerk to life a little when Armstrong removed them entirely. "Please roll over and I shall attend to your legs."
"Er a little modesty?" Havoc pleaded.
"It is nothing I have not seen before many times. On you even, in the showers."
Doubtful Havoc rolled over and covered himself with his hands. Armstrong was pleased to see that Havoc was partially erect. And while he longed to attend to that immediately, he knew the time wasn't quite right. So true to his word he pushed his thumbs into the large muscles of the mans thighs and worked out the tension.
Sure enough Havoc relaxed again. And Armstrong basked in the pleasure of knowing that yet again family tradition could do no wrong.
"I don't know how you talked me into this," Havoc muttered. "Ya know, even my girlfriends haven't touched this much of me."
"What a shame. It is important to feel another's touch. It revives the spirit and makes light a heavy heart." He worked on Havocs abdominal muscles. "You are quite strong, but a little thin." It was probably the smoking, reasoned Armstrong. It tended to suppress the appitite in unhealthy ways. Perhaps when their relationship had cemented a bit further, he could influence Havoc into quitting the noisome habit.
"Hmm. Maybe I'll have my next girlfriend talk to you about massage techniques."
"Or perhaps you could learn them yourself so that you could please your lovers."
"Lovers... I wish."
"Perhaps you need to learn how to touch them more pleasurably, and that way they would be less inclined to turn to Mustang for their attentions."
Armstrong moved up to the chest, paying attention to the pectorals. Not by accident did he rub a large thumb over the nipple. He was pleased at the hardening. "Uh..." said Havoc.
"Don't be afraid. Pleasing lovers is also something the Armstrongs take much pride in. I myself can show you many techniques."
He reached a hand down between the man's legs and gently massaged the inner thigh.
"Are you coming on to me?" Havoc asked.
"Does it feel bad?"
"Well, no. Ah... no..."
"Then why don't you let me continue."
"I er... you are... er..."
"It is both a blessing and a curse of my family to be so intimidating to others. Please try to see past this. I am a gentle man at heart, I will not hurt you." He slid the hand up and finally touched the part he'd been wanting. Although he had little practice (outside himself) with sexual touching, the books had been both quite enlightening and quite explicit. And from the way Havoc was responding, they were dead on accurate as well.
"I suppose, " Havoc said, "Trying new things can be good."
Armstrong leaned forward and kissed him, being both gentle and tender, but with the right amount of pressure. Havoc tensed at first but then relaxed and allowed Armstrong to possess his mouth fully. "Ah..." said Havoc, half lidded when Armstrong broke off the kiss. "I've never... not like that before."
Armstrong was pleased. He was even more pleased when Havoc's arms raised up and tentatively pulled him back. Carefull not to crush the man Armstrong resumed his exploration with his mouth, trailing kisses down Havoc's throat, over the breast bone, and then fixing on first one nipple then the other. Havoc arched his back into these kisses. His penis firmed up quite nicely under Armstrongs hands.
It was time to attend to his own clothes. Not wanting to let the momentum of the moment slip, Armstrong continued to explore down Havoc's belly with his mouth, even he one handedly unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his shirt. When he reached Havoc's erection he drew it into his mouth, which freed both hands to remove his shoes and pants. His sparkles took care of his undershirt.
Havoc's eyes sleepily opened to take in Armstrong. His eyes slipped from the familiar hard lined face and handlebar mustashe, down the finely defined muscles of his chest and belly and finally to what had, until now, always remained something of a mystery. Even in the showers, few people actually LOOKED at Armstrong. It was that aura thing.
"Oh my god." Havoc said. His mouth dropped open. "I don't know what you think I can do with that."
"As I said," Armstrong reassured him. "I will be quite gentle. Armstrongs never hurt their lovers."
He then wrapped his arms around the younger man again, this time lifting him up and flipping him so that his lower half was off the couch.
"Oh, wait," said Havoc. "I'm not sure I'm ready for this. A walk on the wild side is one thing. You'll put me in the hospital with that thing."
"Nonesense. I shall stretch you thoroughly before I take you." He put a hand firmly on Havoc's back, high up near the neck, effectively preventing the man from giving in to fear and bolting before Armstrong had a chance to prove himself.
"Wait," protested Havoc again. "When did I say I was willing to get taken..."
"Shh, shh. It will feel marvelous. Trust me."
And to prove his point, he dipped his fingers in the massage oil and then gently slid first one thick digit, and then a second one into Havoc's ripe, firm ass.
"Aaah," Havoc said, pushing away from the couch, and incidentally pushing those digits deeper into himself. "Aaah." It was hard to tell if it was pleasure or pain, or perhaps it was a combination of both. Armstrong made sure to keep the rhythm of his hand against Havoc's erection steady. Though for a second there was a slight softening, soon Havoc was harder than ever. Armstrong moved his fingers using technique number 8 from the book of a Thousand Nights of Sodomy, and Havoc let out a little pleasured whimper in response.
Soon Armstrong felt the man was capable of taking a third meaty finger. Armstrong watched the ring of muscle widen and stretch around him. A few minutes of this and Havoc would be ready to take what Armstrong desperately desired to give him. Due to his girth and length, a modified technique 14 was in order. Armstrong pushed his fingers in as deeply as he could hooking and flexing them to give the maximum stimulation to the man's prostate. He simultaneously backed off a bit on the the hand job to prevent Havoc from coming, too quickly.
Armstrong finally withdrew his hand to give himself a liberal dousing with oil. Then he pressed forward, holding onto Havoc's shoulder, preventing him from climbing out of the couch.
"Aaah, I don't..."
"Shh, you protest too much."
And of course he was right, it only took two thrusts to bring Havoc to completion. Armstrong enjoyed the way the younger man's cock shuddered slightly in his grip, and the sudden warm gushing into his hand was deeply satisfying. Havoc's pleasured scream was muffled by the cushions of the couch.
Armstrong continued rocking steadily into his ass, both hands on his shoulders now, allowing Havoc's cock a moment to rest. After the recommended period, he went back to ministering to that part again.
"Oh, man," protested Havoc. "I just came. Let me be."
"Shhh. Armstrong pride is at stake here. To give our lovers less than three orgasms in a single session is to shame my family line."
It took a firm grip to hold him still until the shock wore down, but eventually Havoc accepted that he wasn't going anywhere until family honor was appeased. It took more technique this time, but Havoc did indeed come a second time before Armstrong had allowed himself his first orgasm. The evidence of his lover's pleasure still warm in his hands, Armstrong sped up the pace, thrusting deeper and harder, and soon he too was letting go. It was everything the books had lead him to believe it would be. Far better than his own hand had ever been.
Havoc was in no shape to protest much when Armstrong lifted him up and took him to his bed. Nor was he able to maneuver away effectively when Armstrong pulled him into yet another position, belly up this time, legs folded tightly and pulled up to his shoulders. He did make a muffled cry when Armstrong slid his heavy cock back into him for round number two, but soon Armstrong's kisses took that away.
Orgasm number three took a while, but it came as Armstrong mouthed Havoc's nipple, drawing it up with hard sucks and deft sweeps of his tongue. Armstrong felt the man's belly tighten and his pelvis buck uncontrollably. At the same time his ass tightened pleasantly around Armstrong's erection. Not much fluid actually escaped his cock this time. Armstrong continued to thrust for a few minutes after that, until he felt ready to unleash his second orgasm of the night.
Armstrong then let Havoc sleep a while and rest up. He wrapped himself around the younger man, comfortingly, lovingly, possessively.
Later that night Havoc made the mistake of getting up to relieve himself. When he returned to bed, Armstrong was ready for him again. This time he didn't protest too much when he felt Armstrong's mouth around his cock, or a few minutes later when Armstrong shifted him around again. When he felt the man's weight drive him back into the mattress, he merely sighed and allowed himself to be manipulated into orgasm number four.
"Havoc seems a bit woozy today," Mustang remarked to Armstrong the next day. "But happier. I suppose the bar hop did the trick."
"Indeed," said Armstrong. "He opened up to me quite nicely. If I may sir, I think that there is more I can do for him. If I could have your permission to take him to a long lunch, he might benefit from it."
"Hmm. Maybe not so much alcohol. He looks a bit hung over."
Armstrong smiled. "I don't think a lot of alcohol will be necessary this time."
"Very well," said Mustang offhandedly. "Off you go," and he returned to his paperwork.