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Tue, Feb. 14th, 2006, 12:28 pm
devikun: [fic] Honest Man Blues - Roy / Hughes

Not specifically a Valentines fic; started for YC2005 actually but not finished in time (my bad!) and I'm not sure if I'm breaking protocol by posting it here, but I thought hopefully someone could still enjoy it, even though I missed the deadline by miles. T_T

Title: Honest Man Blues
Author: Devera
Words: approx 1500
Warnings/Notes: angst, fluff, smut and an ideal world. Pre-series, but probably not by much.

Maes Hughes is an honest man. Honest with himself, as much as he is with anyone else. And so, he does not agonise. He doesn't debate. Doesn't angst. As soon as it starts becoming apparent that she's serious (him being serious was already a given and therefore in no way counted), he tells her. He has to. How can he keep something like that from someone he loves? It's unthinkable, in his world, but still he knows the risks. His heart is in his mouth, and his words stumble over it, and he knows this is the moment, even if the future holds other moments for them, this is the one that matters and he tells her, because he can't in all conscience keep it from her. Any of it. And if he gets past this, he thinks, if she can accept that it isn't going to change and that his work isn't the only thing she'll be sharing him with, he'll ask her to marry him.

She looks at him like she's never seen him before in her life, and then she leaves.

So, no, he doesn't agonise. He doesn't call himself an idiot and a fool and contemplate throwing himself off the nearest, tallest building. He knew what he was doing, what he was and wasn't capable of. He knew what the risks were and now, quite logically, the consequences of that are that he goes off to get himself utterly, pathetically drunk, quietly and alone, in a corner of a bar he has never been to before. An honest bottle of whiskey for an honest man. Of course, long before it gets to that, he finds his feet walking more familiar streets, negotiating familiar stairs. When he knocks on a familiar door, and it opens, he smiles what he knows is a familiar smile.

"Well, that's that then," he says lightly, and maybe he sounds like his familiar self, but he doesn't know. By the look on Roy's face as he stands in the doorway, probably not.

"You told her," Roy surmises in a tone that says, I told you not to, pulling the door open further as he steps back to let Maes in.

Maes just smiles again and slips into Roy's apartment, a warm cocoon of textbooks and coffee and late-night quiet, and he somehow can't imagine any reality where that statement would have been heeded, even if Roy had said it out loud.

"Of course I did. I'm the one who keeps coming here, aren't I," he reminds him, shuffling over to the sofa to sink down into its easy confines, and he thinks maybe if he gave him half the chance, it wouldn't always be that way, with him on the other side of a ocean green door, waiting for it to be opened, to be let in. Maybe.

Roy sighs a familiar, long-suffering sigh. This is the way Maes is, it says, and a frown forms on his fine, smooth face. He stands for a moment as Maes relaxes into the couch, his arms crossed over a crisp white collared shirt, undone to the third button, sleeves open but not rolled up, and stares.

"For what?" he asks finally and closes the door, and it's as if he really wants to know, and For you, Maes could say, but that wouldn't be the whole truth.

"For me," he says instead. "Because I'm a greedy bastard and I want everything."

Roy almost smiles. "No you don't." Not that Roy wouldn't give it to him, perhaps, if he could.

"Everything that matters, I mean," Maes amends.

"You're an idiot," Roy sighs, coming over finally to sink down on the sofa beside him, perching on the edge of it to lean his forearm across the back of the sofa by Maes' shoulder to look at him. "A fucking idiot. Even I liked her. She was the one." But the relief in his voice, coloured with a vague hint of guilt, is the sweetest sound Maes has heard in a very long while. It makes something swell warm and weighty in his chest until he feels anchored with it, bound down and sinking and held.

"Yeah," he agrees, as if he ever tried debating the fact. "I'd say she was."

"You should-" But Roy stops, because while Maes might knock on that sea-green door, Roy is the one who opens it, and he isn't as much of a bastard as he likes to pretend that he would actually tell either of them 'should', when should also implies 'shouldn't'. "Maes, what the hell am I supposed to do with you?"

"Well," Maes starts and it's probably in poor taste, but then again, it's never been about taste so much as sense, which he has in abundance apart from this single, simple thing. "You could start with asking me to stay."

Roy's expression is in conflict for a moment, and there are words there in his face Maes hopes he never hears, as well as the ones he wants to hear now.

"Alright," Roy relents, and his expression turns gentle, fond. "Will you stay?"

Maes smiles a little, tilts his head against the back of the sofa, and tries not to make his next breath sound like relief, because he's never sure how close Roy is to saying those other words, the ones that are sometimes in his eyes, until he says something else.

"If you kiss me, I will."

And it's simple, always simple. There's no conflict, because there's no choice. He doesn't agonise about what he does, doesn't tell himself he should stop. It's fact, a part of him, like having dark hair or green eyes. It's like being able to create fire out of what looks like nothing. It isn't something he can give up, because it isn't something he chose to do; it just existed, from the moment they'd met. And maybe they don't talk about it, at least not in those words, but it's a part of both of them, beyond any shadow of doubt; the always receding spaces between them, the warmth and familiarity of touch. Roy's gaze, the ghosting of his fingers across Maes' jaw, the softness of his mouth as he presses it to Maes', coaxes him open gently, the assurances and affirmations of being kissed, all these things are as natural, as real as his own heartbeat. They know each other, he and Roy, are parts of each other. It doesn't make any sense, not to him, to cut out a part of himself to make enough room for another. There was always enough room to start with, and Maes can't believe it has to be any other way.


"Yeah?" he breathes, and he was more lost in Roy's kiss than he realised. But Roy only looks at him for a moment, and then shakes his head and finally smiles again.

"It's nothing, after all," he says, leaning in for another, briefer kiss. "Come on."

Roy stands and tugs him up off the sofa, leads him to the bedroom, and lays him down on the bed, and everything he does, every touch, every move is slow, measured, like some kind of sacrament, or like Roy is memorising, imprinting every plane of his body, every muscle and dimple and dip. Maes lets him, lets it all happen. He focuses on the feeling of being touched, of the feeling and familiarity of Roy's hands and mouth and body. He tries to breathe and thinks hazily it's not always like this, hardly ever in fact, but it's good just the same because it makes him feel like he's done the right thing tonight, doesn't make him regret telling her, doesn't make him feel guilty for not choosing one thing over another, one person over another. It makes him remember how the word 'love' is so small compared to what he can feel, what he does feel for this man; friend, brother, lover - and how he will do anything, anything for the people he loves, except give them up.

By the time Roy is sliding into him, he's trembling, his arms around Roy's broad shoulders and slender back, holding him so tightly they're pressed together completely and there's no leverage for Roy to thrust, just rock, against him, into him, and that too makes Maes tremble. And then Roy's hand is on him, fingers curling around him, his voice hoarse and low in his ear telling him the sorts of things he knows are there but only ever hears in actual words when they're like this, with Roy in control for once and he's shuddering, coming and coming and coming and gasping and the arm around him is strong, greedy, like it will never willingly let him go.

Afterwards, their bodies relaxed and their breathing quieter, cleaned up by Roy's oddly shaking hands, they lie sprawled and half entwined, and Maes falls asleep to the gentle caress of Roy's lingering fingers on his skin.

Later, sunshine spilling through Roy's bedroom window, Maes wakes at the sound of knocking. He forces his eyes open as Roy puts the book he must have been reading down on the bedside table, slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of slacks. For a second, he contemplates just rolling back over and going back to sleep, but Roy is padding barefoot and shirtless out through the bedroom door, across the lounge to the front door, and his hair is mussed above the rim of his reading glasses and the sight is enough to keep Maes awake and watching as he opens the door.

For a moment, he can't tell who it is. Roy fills the partially opened space, blocking his view and the visitor's. And then he steps back a little and Maes thinks maybe he's actually still asleep after all, and dreaming.

"Is it alright...if I...?" she asks, and she's asking it of Roy.

And; "Absolutely," Roy answers, and Maes feels his heart take flight like a bird as Gracia steps bright and beautiful into Roy's apartment, sees him across the room, through the bedroom doorway, lying naked in Roy's bed.

And smiles.

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 08:13 pm (UTC)


This was truly one of the best works of Roy/Maes fiction that I've read in awhile. The characterization was wonderful.

It is a shame you didn't finish it in time, but still, oh man.

It doesn't make any sense, not to him, to cut out a part of himself to make enough room for another. There was always enough room to start with, and Maes can't believe it has to be any other way.

Am in love with those sentences, as well as a few others in this piece.

'Tis going in my memories. :D

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 08:22 pm (UTC)

Ah, thanks so much! [blushes] The line you quoted is the whole point of what I was trying to get at with this fic...

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 08:24 pm (UTC)

You're welcome, and I was thinking that was just a little more than a hint, especially with the ending and all. Wee! :)

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 08:22 pm (UTC)

Ohmigosh threesome yaaaay. ♥

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 08:25 pm (UTC)

lol! (yes the idea is a little tempting, isn't it) Maes always was a cool guy, but I bet Gracia was even cooler!

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:02 pm (UTC)

Oh. My. God.
Are you the peson Arakawa based Hughe on? because damn. That was intense, beautiful, spot on characterization.

Reading this broke my heart several times over. It was just so many emotions mixed with a feeling of emptiness/overwhelmess (not a word, I know it's not a word... it's late here XD) Then you totally used the best glue ever. I almost couldn't believe it when Gracia came back, I was a puddle of goo on the floor, really. **

Thank you so much for writing this and sharing. Do you have more of those babies under your sleeve?

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:16 pm (UTC)

Gosh! That's far too flattering a comment! But thankyou so much! ^^

I have some other unfinished things but nothing post-worthy, (I usually write Saiyuki!) although I *am* trying to finish everything I start this year ^^;

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:19 pm (UTC)

well, I'm not well-versed in the Sayuki universe, but what I just read certainly shows how talented you are, so I'd love to read what you get out next. You know, I had to actually create a category for your fic when I put this entry in my memories, because well, it's just so unique and simply lovely.

You deserve all the praise and more. Something tells me I'll be printing this fic and reading it many, many times over. ^^

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:44 pm (UTC)

[is *very flattered]

Well, I've done a few small things in other fandoms too. Everything's in my memories in my lj under 'me me ff' if you wanted to check them out. I usually don't get as much time (or inspiration) as I'd like to write.

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:22 pm (UTC)

to tell you how much I loved this fic, every other sentence seems like it's my favorite sentence of the fic. It just gets better and better and better. *sigh*

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:26 pm (UTC)


Oh, this was great. @.@; I really don't know how to sum up how much I loved it, except that it's probably one of the best pieces of Hughes/Roy fiction I've read.

It doesn't make any sense, not to him, to cut out a part of himself to make enough room for another. There was always enough room to start with, and Maes can't believe it has to be any other way.

This line stood out to me as well, and seems to sum up Hughes's character wonderfully, since while I'm a huge fan of the pairing, I could never seem to justify him completely dropping Roy, but at the same time I questioned disloyalty to Gracia.


Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:47 pm (UTC)

Thanks! I'm very glad you liked it so much!

could never seem to justify him completely dropping Roy, but at the same time I questioned disloyalty to Gracia.

That's exactly the thought this came from! While illicit affairs are exciting and everything, usually they only end up hurting everyone involved and Hughes never struck me as someone who was easily capable of hurting others.

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:49 pm (UTC)

Ah, I can't say anything more to praise this than what everyone else has and will say! SPANKING GOOD READ. <3<3

Also-- uke!Hughes! Threesome! *is pleased*

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 11:28 pm (UTC)

Thanks heaps!

[hrrk!] For some reason the word 'spanking' here makes me giggle uncontrollably...

Ah, yes, and uke!Hughes is a bit of a fetish of mine...

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 09:51 pm (UTC)

Wow. This was absolutely wonderful, beautifully written. Totally drew me in, and didn't seem self-indulgent or unrealistic, or... anything. Amazing job.

Mon, Feb. 13th, 2006 11:31 pm (UTC)

Thanks so much ^^ I'm actually very pleased by your comment - sounding self-indulgent or unrealistic is a very real danger when writing (even slightly) angsty!fic, and the last thing I actually want it to be...

Tue, Feb. 14th, 2006 07:37 am (UTC)

Yeah. :D I love how you made such a point of Hughes not being angsty and instead used implications to show that he was affected just as much as anyone else would be. I really wish I had as much discipline as you; I appreciate your skill because I'm usually one to make that pitfall. XD; Still, I haven't tried writing something Hughes/Roy on my own yet, (just one-on-one RP), so maybe I can take a lesson from your wonderful fic and try to stay away from that. :3

Tue, Feb. 14th, 2006 06:36 pm (UTC)

Ah, I don't think I'm that disciplined (you should see how many unfinished fics I have! ^^;) or skilled either - usually it's all just happy accident!

Tue, Feb. 14th, 2006 05:53 pm (UTC)

a m a z i n g! It was like poetry all the way through. You definitely have an artistic style using repetition the way you did. And the end was just wonderful!

Best by far, keep up the good work!

Tue, Feb. 14th, 2006 06:37 pm (UTC)

Thankyou so much! I guess I was in a slightly lyrical mood when I wrote it.
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