Passion could be feigned, lust was easy to keep running once started.
Official military documentation was easier to read than the face of Roy Mustang. It was like trying to decipher the newest code, sorting out what emotion the man was actually experiencing. Everything was planned, every action was monitored...
There was a distinct lack of honest spontaneity, and Maes hated to think himself nothing more than a useful rung in the social ladder. He had connections; he was more skilled than anyone was comfortable with when it came to information gathering.
In other words he was the perfect acquaintance for someone interested in improving their social standing in the military pack mentality.
Maes scratched at the lengthy stubble that was prickling at his chin, the only outward expression of his current anxiety. When someone was so used to knowing what was going on, what everyone was thinking, Maes was distinctly uncomfortable with his lack of knowledge when it came to the inner workings of Mustang's brain.
Passion could be feigned, lust was easy to keep running once started. Hormones and instinct were wonderful tools, devious weapons, when applied correctly. Hell, Maes had used them himself with fantastic results more often then he really wanted to admit. He was good at it, with his easy smile and relaxed wit.
He hated to think he was currently the victim.
Maes glared at the phone, daring it to ring, and knowing it wouldn't. After all, they were involved in a politely clandestine relationship, an arrangement one step above assignations in the discreet back room of the darker pubs.
Slowly, an idea that had been fumbling around the back of Maes' head boiled to the foreground, as a truly wicked brand of smile unfurled his lips from their stressed thinness. Maes picked up the phone and dialed Mustang's desk.
"Mustang." Roy's precise, impersonal voice greeted him.
The grin on Maes' face turned positively feral. Impersonal, hmmm? That just wouldn't do. "Do you have your collar pulled up?"
"You know, to hide the bite mark."
"I wouldn't want anyone saying things behind your back, so I thought I would call and make sure you remembered." Roy had pale skin, and it flushed so easily. Maes sincerely hoped he was causing a blush, and he didn't even care if it was from embarrassment or rising anger. Either way, it was an emotion Roy hadn't planned on, hadn't calculated into his day over a bitter mug of black coffee, and Maes considered that a win.
"I can take care of myself, thank you very much."
The sound of Roy slamming the phone onto the receiver was a victory bell to Maes, that and the heat he had heard in the other mans voice. Partially anger, yes, but most definitely due to the memory of how his little love mark came to be.
Maes slouched back into his chair, content, and basking in a newfound appreciation for the phone. Yes, his skills were invaluable to someone in Roy's position, but Maes was going to have some fun with the situation. It was the best way to deal with the uncertainty.
And who knows, he might convince Roy to have some fun along the way.