Thanks for reading everyone! I was really dissatisfied with the ending of Roy and Riza's relationship in the show, and thought they deserved fanfic. I hope you enjoy, and please leave a review if you like it (or don't), I'll reply!
Roy Mustang, brigadier general and flame alchemist, was deeply unhappy.
After he and his band of compatriots had overthrown the Bradley regime, it seemed a new day had dawned on Emestrius. It seemed he would finally become fuehrer and rid this land of all its faults. But after the war, he was, temporarily, satisfied. Though he would not become fuehrer, he would, at least, be able to fix Ishval, and rid his conscience of that weight. Things had not gone so smoothly. Edward had simply dropped his state alchemist pocket watch to go cavorting off with his brother. Riza, meanwhile, had announced she was taking a vacation, going off to sunbathe in South. No doubt with a lover. Or two. Perhaps that was the primary contributor to his negativity. General Grumman, meanwhile, couldn't care less for Ishval, and his lieutenants were just too overworked to do more. No progress had been made, and none was going to be.
He furiously grabbed the nearest book, an elaborate Ishvalan cuisine overview, and hurled it at the glass window panes. To his satisfaction, a crack spread through them, and the book fell apart, spine parting from the plentiful pages. The anger drained from him, to be replaced by disappointment and self-pity. Perhaps he could sleep it off. He had been working quite late, and the sun had already departed, leaving the moon hanging high in the black curtain of night.
Sighing, he buttoned his coat, picked up his briefcase, and made for the elevator. His pocket watch told him it was well past midnight. As he walked through the empty hall, he rounded a corner and nearly walked into someone.
It was Riza.
A torrent of anger and joy, disbelief and relief, swept through him. He did his best to force down all of it and simply extend a hand. "Lieutenant, it's good to see you again."
"Glad to be back, sir," she stated, as calmly as he.
"How was South?"
"Fine, sir."
"What… what did you get up to?"
"Not much, sir. What are you doing here so early?" Of course she could ask her own questions, but not even answer his. Although, it jarred him a little to hear her describe the time of night as "early" rather than "late".
"I've been working late. What about you?" He waited for her reaction.
Her eyes widened. "Colonel, it's five o'clock. You've been working all night?"
"It's not been easy work, Lieutenant," he replied tersley.
She stepped a little closer, examining his haggard state, but he was all too aware of her familiar scent, her enticing frame, her beautiful face. He had made love to her a couple times before, on late nights, when they both needed to de-stress, or when her plentiful breasts and her swaying hips had distracted him to insanity, but of course their positions prevented them from having any sort of real relationship.
Abruptly, he felt his legs give way beneath him, sending him falling into Riza. She caught him, but he felt no need to pull away. Instead, he buried his face in her sweet-smelling hair.
"God, I've missed you, Riza," he breathed.
She stiffened, but didn't pull away either. "I'll drive you home, sir."
The ride back was silent, neither wishing to communicate their feelings to the other. Roy opened his door and clumsily nearly fell out, but managed to catch himself. To his surprise, he straightened to see Riza briskly climb out and close her door as well. "What are you doing?" he asked.
"Walking you to your door, sir," she replied.
"Is that all?" he said, grinning slightly.
Though she ignored the comment, Riza was relieved to see that at least some part of him was the same colonel she always knew.
He laughed quietly, but as they strolled to the building together, he casually put an arm around her shoulder, as if for support.
And as the soft chime of the elevator sounded, Roy followed Riza in and unconcernedly slipped his arm from his shoulder to her waist.
And as his door opened, he pulled her close and pressed his lips to hers. Backing her up against the wall, he undid the clip in her hair and let it spill loose around her shoulders. He felt her respond as she sighed and her soft lips opened to let her tongue into his mouth and one of her arms twined around his back as the other felt his chest.
He clasped a hand to her cheek and let the other run through her yellow strands. She backed into the room, sucking his lips and slipping a hand beneath his shirt to feel his well-muscled chest. He pushed her against the bed frame, leaning his body into hers and feeling the swell of her breasts pushed into him, devouring her mouth with his own and trying to close any medium of space that still lay between them through sheer force of will.
He scooped her up in his arms and she let out a small gasp of surprise as he gently deposited her on his bed, and climbed atop her, looking down at his heavily breathing and heavily missed lieutenant, with her heavenly face waiting expectantly. She looked like an angel, with her hair splayed out on the pillow behind her and he found he couldn't quite remember how this started, how any of it started, only that they were here and she was his for the moment.
He kissed the corner of her mouth, then her chin, then her neck, and then her throat and unbuttoned her jacket to expose her collarbone and unbuttoned her shirt to kiss the valley in between her breasts.
"God, Roy," she moaned, "I've missed you."
"Riza," he breathed back against her skin.
She pulled off her shirt and jacket entirely, leaving her clad in only her bra and pants. Bringing his face back to hers, she kissed him again, her tongue pushing into his, feeling his mouth, feeling him, exploring. He felt his jacket and shirt being torn off as her small, warm hands skirted across his abs, his nipples, and up to his face, all while kissing him deeply, warmly.
He ripped off her bra and tossed it aside, cupping her breasts, eliciting from her a hiss of pleasure against his mouth. And he massaged them gently, pushing his fingers into her warm chest and feeling the nipples harden slowly. His hands traveled down her torso, traversed the expanse of her stomach, and delved into her pants, making her gasp into his neck. With an inexplicable sense of urgency, he ripped them off, the buttons flying every which way, and he felt her sopping wet bush and her comparable need for urgency.
Suddenly, he felt his own member harden as her dainty fingers traveled into his own pants and gripped him hard. He groaned and attacked her mouth once more, delighting himself by licking her lips and dancing his tongue with hers. Her hands went to the clasp of his trousers, and with practiced swiftness, his pants were off in a matter of seconds.
He stared down at her once more, with her perfectly sculpted body, now completely naked, and lost himself in her curves, her complexity, and all he could do was position himself above her entrance and thrust, driving himself onto her, into her, making her cry his name with pleasure, with agony, with delight, with sorrow, and he knew, at that moment, she was really there, and he was really with her, in her, and knew, for the moment, they were one, they became whole once more.
As he neared his climax, he felt her near hers as well, and as she stiffened, so did he, and he spurted his juices into her, and finally slumped against her body, and fell off into a deep slumber.