Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist
It's rather funny, really. Any sort of relationship between the two beyond that of simply coworkers or old friends was never acknowledged. Whether Roy spent sleepless nights guessing the color of her underwear or Riza had to remember not to stare when he was taking his fitness tests were topics that were never brought up. But it had always been that way between them, albeit less so when they were kids in her father's house.
When they were teenagers, Roy nearly drowned in his own sweat when he worked up the nerve to ask her to a dance. And when he did ask her, Riza blushed despite her best efforts to hide the excitement. They would get butterflies in their stomachs and their nerves would dance on end when they got too close to each other. They both felt electricity when their lips finally did touch and comfort when he held her in his arms when her father was away. These sensations only amplified when she gave him the secrets. Of course, there was an air of depression in the house after the passing of her father, and worse so after Roy left for the army. But when he came back, there were many nights spent wrapped in the warmth of each other
When they were younger there was kissing and handholding and snuggling and chicken noodle soup when Riza was sick and ice packs when Roy was sore. Then he left for Ishbal, heartbroken knowing that things would never be the same. But Riza followed, because the string holding their souls together was starting to pull a little too tightly when she watched the sparkling flames of the fireplace late at night. When they met again, things had changed – understandably so, given the dramatic difference in their environment. But when he met up with her that night, he held her closely to him, stroking her hair and trying to express what he couldn't bring himself to say in the hell that surrounded them.
There was some sort of understanding, though. The understanding that there really was no need for Riza to move her leg when his rested against hers under the conference table. The understanding that there's nothing odd at all about the fact that Roy raids her chocolate boxes on Valentine's Day, eating all of the kinds that she hates (of course, his box to her is already Riza-proof). There's nothing weird about the way he framed the target of her perfect shot from a record distance…or the way he continues to every time she tops that record. The others in the office notice the way their eyes light up when they recall some memory, not bothering to share with the rest of them. But the two just carry on this way, clearly caring for each other. They never talk about it, it just happens. And it all feels like the most comfortable thing in the world.
Maybe they don't talk about it because they know that acknowledging it all was too risky. Even still, Roy made it a point to tell her about every date he went on, maybe to make it clear that they weren't dates at all. Every year, Riza declined invitations to military balls because she knew that he was going to ask her at the last minute when his other "dates fell through." For years this goes on, and they are content with this happiness of simply being together. At least for some time.
At some point it's not the most comfortable thing in the world. Roy never got used to the coldness that attacked his bed when she wasn't there to shield him from it. It had been years since they'd been so intimate, but he knew that the love was still there. Love. Strange that he never thought to put a name to the feeling. Of course, she hadn't either, She also misses his breath against her neck, his hands in her hair, his hips-well, it had been a long time, and she feared he might not feel the same pangs of desire. But, of course, he did.
They were working late in the office, stacks of paperwork positioned around the floor. Roy and Riza sat on the floor, back to back, leaning against each other as they tackled the work. He had chugged his mug of coffee – and, of course, she noticed. She took a sip of hers and passed it behind her, wordlessly and without looking up from her work. Feeling the movement and smelling the coffee, he took it in the same manner, took a sip, then passed it back. It was all so natural for them.
"Hey," Roy said as if he just saw the most intriguing work of art and wondered if she had noticed the same telling detail that he had. Riza, not looking up from her work, mimicked his tone as she replied with a "hey" as well. Roy set down his pen and turned slightly to the side, taking her face in his hand and drawing her in for a kiss. She stiffened slightly at the initial contact, but relaxed when their lips connected. It was short, but so natural. His body surged with electricity as it recalled all of the moments so long ago – too long ago! – when he had captured her lips with his own. When they parted, they just looked into each other's eyes for a few moments.
Quickly, the neutral expression on Riza's lips quirked up into a smile, which Roy answered with a grin.
"So," he began nonchalantly, "what are you doing later?"
Riza chuckled before turning around and gripping the lapels of his uniform jacket, pulling him closer. "That's funny, I was just wondering what you were doing now."