And now for yet another oneshot that I found hiding on my hard drive! This one's futuristic post-manga for FMA, and Mustang is now Fuhrer - because we know it will happen eventually. A little language and some sensual stuff, but nothing too bad. Pretty much no plot, though, as most of my romantic oneshots go :D
Disclaimer: I do not own FullMetal Alchemist.
Diplomacy
Riza kept her arms folded and her shawl wrapped firmly around her bare shoulders. "They'll be looking for you soon if they aren't already," she said by way of distraction, hoping beyond hope to stop her insistent husband from dragging her any further into the woods around the Xingese palace. "Rulers of allied countries don't just disappear unnoticed during these events."
"That may be true," Roy conceded, working his hands up the side of her thin silky dress, "but who's going to say anything? We just went for a walk, like Ling and Lanfan did when they were in Amestris," he said with a meaningful wink. His fingers ended their ascending journey when they touched flesh, and he began trying unsuccessfully to pry her arms apart.
"So it is responsible for the ruler of a country to skip out on his diplomatic duties to go on a 'walk'?"
"Always with the rhetorical questions," Roy sighed, giving up on unfolding her arms and instead leaning forward to press a kiss against her lips.
It was of course awkward with Riza's arms in the way, but the kiss was not entirely one-sided. It simply wasn't in Riza's nature to refuse her husband a kiss.
It was, however, in her nature to refuse him any more than that when they had elsewhere to be.
Roy pulled away and noted with satisfaction that Riza's arms seemed considerably less tightly folded. "Riza -"
"No." Riza turned smoothly and began to walk away.
She wasn't entirely surprised to feel strong arms holding her back a millisecond later, clamped (she suspected very purposefully) over her breasts. Her breath hitched at the feeling of soft lips on the back of her neck. "Riza," he voiced in that low, sensual whisper that always, always - even now - brought chills to her body.
Damn him. Damn me. Damn everything.
"No," she said again, somehow sounding just as firm as before, though her resolve had been broken probably at least in half by the sound of her name.
"Riza -"
Riza turned within the confines of Roy's arms to face him, realizing only belatedly that it was a mistake. He looked so vulnerable, so exposed, so pitiful. Was she really to blame for this?
"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he asked wickedly, damn his sexy voice, his fiery eyes, his playful smile, his irresistible charm, his unbreakable power over her, her mind was turning to jelly -
"I'm not," she rasped, trying unsuccessfully to take a step backward, finding herself still hindered by his arms.
"Yes, you are," Roy persisted.
"Roy, not everyone has a mind as dirty as yours -"
He kissed her then, a simple kiss - all he did was press his lips against hers - but hard enough to betray his desperation and long enough to transfer it to her.
"Roy," she said when he pulled away, keeping her lips nearly close enough to touch his, and she finally unfolded her arms. The shawl slipped down immediately, showing off the gentle curve of her shoulders, the pure white of her skin against the dark fabric of her dress. Roy gasped, and she wrapped the shawl around his back and arms, lassoing him closer to her. Roy smiled crookedly as she began kissing him again, first on the lips, then the cheek, finally working her way over to his ear.
"Don't make me shoot you where you'll never recover," she whispered - and before he could register her empty threat he felt the absence of her warmth against his. The shawl fell to the ground. She was gone, running in the opposite direction, back toward that damn ball that was bound to last at least another two hours.
Roy heaved a sigh as he watched her retreating form, the sway of her hips that couldn't have been anything but deliberate. He would repay her. All in good time.