Title: Enough
Pairings: Roy/Riza, Roy/See-if-you-can-guess
Warnings: Er, yaoi? Sexual references? Rampant sentimentality and chiche-ness? (I don't know which of those is most offensive, really.)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my tortured, tortured soul. And that only until someone bids for it on Ebay.
A/N: 180 words. My first fic in five years. Won't this be fun?
It isn't perfect. Not by far. For one thing, she's too soft. His fingers travel awkwardly over her hips and chest, seeking muscle and finding instead soft, pliant flesh. It's not unpleasant, really; he rather likes that the smoothness of her cheeks is never interrupted by stubble, and that her kisses leave smudges of lipstick, rather than bruises. Nor is it unfamiliar; in maintaining his reputation as a ladies man, he's become more than accustomed to the differences between women's bodies and mens'. A certain man's, in particular. Still, it frustrates him, as do her eyes (too green, and far too keen for his comfort), her hands (too small, with calluses in all the wrong places) and a whole host of other details which seem to accumulate like wrinkles in a bedsheet, like weeds on a grave, like dust on his telephone. Like regrets. But on some level, he reasons, all those flaws must be a sign that perfection does exist, and his jaded tastes proof that he's experienced it. And so for him, though it's not perfect, it's enough.
fin