Rating: T
Pairing: Royai/Roy Mustang x Riza Hawkeye
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist.
Word Count: 2257
Title: Birthday Wish
Description: Royai One Shot
Roy gets called in the middle of the night to pick up a drunk Riza from a bar.
• Happy reading! •
Roy
I'm just on the cusp of sleep when a shrill sound cuts through the silence of my apartment.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I growl. "Who the hell is calling at this hour?"
Since the ringing isn't stopping, I groan and throw the sheets off of me, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. When I reach the phone in the hall, I grab the receiver and lift it to my ear with swift, jerky movements.
"Hello?" I ask, barely hiding my anger.
"Is this…Roy Mustang?"
"Colonel," I correct at once. "This is Colonel Roy Mustang. Who the fuck are you?"
"Silas," he replies vaguely. "Do you know a young, blonde woman named…Rissa?"
"Rissa…?" I frown. "No. I've never met—wait. Do you mean Riza?"
"Uh…yeah. That sounds right."
"What do you want with her?" I snarl, getting more irritated by the second.
Why is some random asshole asking me questions about my lieutenant? At four-the-fuck in the morning?
"She's sitting on a stool in my bar. Said to call you to come get her. She's too wasted to drive, and I gotta close up."
What? I blink and let my brain roll over what he just said. Riza—Lieutenant Hawkeye, is too wasted to drive herself home from a bar? Since when? And why? Riza hardly ever drinks. There must be some mistake.
"Are you sure you're talking about Riza Hawkeye?" I ask skeptically.
"Here. Just talk to her yourself."
There's a rustling noise, and then I hear the sound of soft breathing.
"Roy?" Her voice is sultry and breathless. "I…I didn't have anyone else to call," she goes on, and I can hear the slur in her speech.
"Just hold on, Riza. I'm on my way."
She starts to say something else, but Silas must take the phone back because suddenly his voice is back in my ear.
"She's at the Black Dragon Bar. Two blocks south of Central Headquarters, across from Lulu's Bakery."
"I'll be there as soon as I can."
He hangs up, and I set the phone down before turning and heading to my bedroom for some clothes. I change quickly, and head out to my car. The drive doesn't take ten minutes. It helps that there is absolutely no one else out on the road at this hour. When I arrive, I park at the curb and get out.
Just as I reach the door to the bar, it opens, and a rough-looking bearded man hands a very wobbly Riza off to me. At first, I'm not sure it's her, even though we confirmed it on the phone. I've never seen her this drunk before. Not to mention, she's wearing a glittering silver cocktail dress that bares more than a little skin, particularly her legs and cleavage, along with some dangerous looking heels.
She looks like lust incarnate. (Not to compare her with Lust, the homunculus, who couldn't even hold a candle to the woman clinging to my arm.)
That said, what the hell was she doing tonight dressed like this?
"Get her home safe," Silas barks, grouchily.
"You don't need to worry about me," I reply, pulling Riza away. "I've got this under control."
"If you say so." He turns and goes back into the building, and I hear a lock click behind him.
"Let's go, Riza," I murmur in her ear, leading her toward the car.
She immediately stumbles, and I instinctively reach out and catch her, pulling her into me.
"Sorry," she whispers. "These shoes are…tall."
She sways in my arms, and I sigh.
"What have you been up to, Lieutenant?" I mutter, swinging her up into my arms and holding her against my chest.
"I was thirsty," she answers, breathing onto my neck. "And lonely."
I swallow hard, and keep my eyes forward, focusing on the task at hand. I can't let myself think about her being out here in this place trying to meet men. Especially dressed like she is.
"I wanted to go out," she volunteers in the same soft voice as I set her down next to the passenger side door. "Rebecca was busy, though…so I went alone."
I start to tell her that was a stupid decision when she goes on.
"It's my birthday. Otherwise, I wouldn't have bothered."
Her birthday? It's her goddamn birthday? What the hell? How could I have missed that? How come she didn't say anything earlier? We were at the office all day together, and she never said a word.
"I shouldn't have anyway," she continues, looking over my shoulder. "It wasn't worth it."
"Alcohol isn't as much fun as you'd hoped?" I ask lightly, trying to improve her mood.
"No…" She shakes her head. "It's not that exactly. It's just… I hate my birthday." Her soft voice gets thick, and I see her eyes start shining with tears.
I give her a soft look and reach up to stroke her cheek with my thumb.
"How about we go home now, okay? And we can talk about this in the morning."
"No one ever remembers it," she voices quietly, as if I never spoke. "Even when I was little, it was just another day."
Fuck. I should've known there was a deeper issue here.
"Come on, Riza. I'm gonna get you home now."
She nods once, and turns to open the door. I reach around her and pull the handle, since I'm not sure she has the equilibrium to do it herself.
The drive to her place is silent. She looks out the window for most of it, so I can't see her face. When we arrive at her building, I take my spare key and use it to let us in, while, at the same time, I use my free arm to hold her to me, keeping her upright.
"You don't have to come in," she whispers when we reach her apartment. "I can nurse my own hangover."
"Don't argue, Lieutenant," I reply gruffly. "I know what I'm doing."
I unlock the door and walk her to her sofa, ignoring Black Hayate's attempt to knock us down with his happy jumping. I get a glass of water from the kitchen and carry it into the living room, where she's curled up on her side. Setting the drink on the coffee table, I take the time to remove her impractical shoes and find a blanket to cover her with.
"Would you like me to stay, Riza?" I ask her gently, brushing her bangs off her forehead.
She makes a soft sound, which I take as a yes. I shift her gently so that I'm sitting with her head resting on my thigh.
"Do you want to tell me about your birthday?" I ask quietly, fully aware of the landmines I could trigger with this topic of conversation.
She sighs, and reaches a hand up next to her face, resting it on my knee.
"When I was really little, my parents threw these elaborate parties. With guests and presents and dancing and food. I wore frilly dresses and ribbons in my hair. I actually loved it. Around the time I turned seven, the parties stopped. I never knew why." She starts tracing small circles on my knee with one of her fingers. "I think it was something to do with my parents, but I… I can't ever know for sure."
"What about when you left home? You didn't celebrate with friends?"
She shrugs, rubbing her cheek on my thigh.
"I guess I was used to it by then, the idea of not celebrating. It never occurred to me to make a big deal out of it."
"Until tonight?"
"It was a last-minute idea," she murmurs. "I didn't even tell Rebecca. I just asked if she wanted to go out tonight."
"Why didn't you say anything at work today?"
"The same reason," she exhales. "It isn't anything special."
I reach down and stroke her cheek with my thumb, grabbing her attention.
"It's special to me," I tell her. "You're special to me. The day you were born is an essential part of you. So, you're wrong. It's exactly something special."
"Colonel," she whispers, lifting her head. "You shouldn't say things like that."
"They're true," I respond bluntly. "So why shouldn't I?"
"They're too…nice," she slurs, reminding me she's still very drunk.
"Nice has nothing to do with it," I mutter, stroking her hair back.
She yawns and curls her arm around my leg.
"You are nice," she mumbles. "And strong and sweet and tall and…handsome."
I blink, but don't answer. I'm not sure how to respond to that.
"You're one hell of a guy, sir."
I grin silently to myself. Sober Riza would never in a million years say that to me.
"Get some sleep, Lieutenant," I tell her gently, running my fingers through her hair again.
"Yes, sir," she sighs, closing her eyes.
I continue to stroke her hair until I hear her breathing even out. Only then do I carefully rise from my seat, rearranging her so she's lying comfortably on the sofa. Black Hayate jumps up by her feet and curls into a ball.
"Happy Birthday, Riza," I whisper into her ear. "Next year, we'll celebrate properly. I promise."
I move to kiss her temple, barely brushing her with my lips. As I start to stand, she shifts.
"Thank you, Roy," her sleepy voice sighs. "You were the only thing I wished for anyway."
I blink at her confession. Our attraction isn't something either of us ever brings up. That said, it is her birthday. She may as well get one thing she really wants. The only thing I can give her.
With that in my mind, I slowly lower my head back down, this time pressing my mouth to the corner of hers. She doesn't react at first, until I slide my hand under her head, lifting it to give myself better access.
Her eyes open as I tilt my head, centering my lips over hers.
"What are you–"
"It's your present," I explain, speaking right against her mouth. "From me."
I don't wait for her to answer before I crush my mouth to hers. In her sleep/alcohol-induced haze, it takes her a second to react. I use the delay to run my tongue along the seam of her mouth. She gasps, her hand coming up to hold my arm, giving her stability.
I instantly slide my tongue inside the space provided by her now-parted lips. I hear her moan low in her throat, at the same time she leans into me, her fingers digging into the skin of my shoulder.
"Roy," she whimpers into my mouth, and something snaps.
Suddenly, it's like I'll die if I have to quit tasting her. I drop to my knees, and using both hands, I grab her face, feeling her soft cheeks, their heat under my thumbs. I kiss her deeply, our tongues colliding together wildly. She moves to a sitting position and curls her arms around my neck. My heart is racing and my lungs are burning, but I can't stop. Not yet. I need more of her. All of her.
I nip at her lower lip, and she whimpers, digging her fingers into my hair.
"Roy," she sighs. "I…"
I reach around her for her zipper, when I stop.
We can't cross this line. Not now. Not like this. She's not sober. I'm her superior officer. This is not allowed to happen.
I take a deep breath, leaning my forehead against hers before moving away and standing up.
"Wait. Where are you going?" Her voice is filled with confusion. And hurt.
"I have to go," I answer shortly, still trying to catch my breath. "Home to my own bed."
"But, you were…" She reaches up and touches her lips. "I thought we were going to–"
"Not tonight, Riza. Your birthday gift was just a kiss."
"You call that 'just a kiss?'" she raises her eyebrows.
She has a point, I know. It was definitely more than that. But it can't be. Not if we're going to keep our jobs. Our lives. We can't risk everything over one night.
"It doesn't matter," I answer her softly. "That's all there can be."
"I see." She looks down at the coffee table in front of her. "Still…" Her eyes rise to meet mine. "It was a lovely gift. Thank you."
I clear my throat and nod.
"You're welcome, Lieutenant. Have a good night." I turn and start for the door before I look back. "And Happy Birthday."
I leave then, before I can change my mind and finish what I started. Sometimes it feels like that's where we're always headed. And likely, one day, we won't be able to avoid the pull. But for now, this is how it has to be.
When I get home, the sun is starting to shine through the cracks in my curtains. I make my way to my room, ready to collapse on my bed, when the phone rings again. God, will I ever get a single second of sleep tonight?
I turn around and make my way to the annoying device.
"Yes?"
"Thank you," Riza's soft voice greets me. "I loved your gift."
I let out a slow breath, reaching up to rub my hand over the back of my neck.
"You're very welcome."
"Get some sleep, sir."
"You, too, Lieutenant."
I hear her hang up, and then I finally go to bed and drop instantly into sleep.
