A/N: I've never really done one of these types of writing before and to be honest, I'm not sure it's really all that great. If I get it enough helpful suggestions and recommendations I will remove this story and replace it with an updated that won't be as bad.
Also, I don't own any Full Metal Alchemist characters or ideas.
Riza Roy OneShot, my last shred of dignity, enjoy it.
You Show Me Yours, I'll Show You Mine
The five men grinned widely as they all huddled around the closed door of Mustang's office. Fahlman, Breda, Havoc, Armstrong, and Hughes looked like middle school boys trying to peek into the girls' locker room as they stacked on top of each other in order to hear the words that were being said on the other side. "I can't hear anything", Feury whined as he cupped his hands around his ear and firmly pressed it against the door. "Shh, I can't hear either with you complaining", hissed Breda, who was leaning against Feury's back and also funneling his hands around his ear to enhance his hearing. Beyond the mahogany double doors two familiar voices sounded alternatively, one deep and masculine, the other light and feminine. "I wonder what those two could be up to", Armstrong said in a not-so-hushed voice, making it apparent that a whisper was not a trait passed down the Armstrong line for generations. "Well, I certainly know what Roy would be trying," said Hughes, "but, I sincerely doubt Riza would have anything close to that in her mind." The men inhaled sharply as they heard the two voices get closer to the door, each man's curiosity too deep to consider running to safety instead of being caught eavesdropping.
"I don't know Mustang…I'm not really into the whole idea of trying something new." "Aww come on, it'll be exciting to try something new don't you think", Roy said more persuasively than matter of fact, "I guarantee you that you'll like it, I'll teach you how to do everything and we can try out different techniques together." Havoc held back a snort as he pictured the two adults in the room together, unaware of the audience they had outside. He was abruptly cut short when he was elbowed in the ribs by Fahlman who, if no one knew better, was well on his way to making love with the door judging by how close his body was pressed against it. "Alright fine," Riza gave in reluctantly, "I'll let you show me, but in return, you have to try out mine as well." "Agreed," Roy said quickly, a few footsteps could be heard then the shuffling of the stiff military pant legs rubbing against each other.
"Okay, I'll go first," Roy said. "Alright Mustang, just promise to be gentle with it ok?" "Yeah yeah, I've been around tons of these things before, I know what I'm doing," Roy said flatly, pride dripping off his words. "Well, mine's a lot different than most, it requires a little extra care Mustang." "I don't see how it's different, it looks the same as all the others, except the hole is smaller than most I've seen." "I'm serious sir, " Riza began, "you can't be too rough with it, it's likely to go off in your hands." "Fine. How's this?" "Good," she said, "but you need to loosen up your upper body a bit, spread your legs, and relax your breathing, you have to learn to keep it steady and aim it right." "Alright, like this?" "Mm, not quite; here let me help you." "Riza stop! That tickles!" "Well I'm sorry, but if you keep your posture up like that you'll be on your back in no time." The men snickered at the thought of their manly, dominant colonel laying helpless on his back as Riza overpowered him. "I will not", Roy shot back, "I am in complete control of this thing. My legs are spread, the shaft is centered and straight, and my posture is perfect for any kind of reaction." "Maybe, but you have to know how to handle the clean up afterwards as well. Here, give it to me, butt first please." "Okay, think fast Riza!" Roy shouted. "Colonel," Riza shrieked, "don't do that to me! And don't hold it only by the base, use both hands when you have that thing out." Hughes, now red in the face, let a small giggle escape his lips and Havoc, Armstrong, and Fahlman hurdled over each other as they hurried to restrain and hush the giggling man. As the reddened man caught his breath and returned to his normal color, the others turned their attention back towards the door. "Meh, I can handle that bad boy with one hand, give it back to me." Roy's voice bragged. "No," Riza said sternly, "now pay attention, the afterward clean up is important.
First off, you have to empty your live ammunition. Next, you have to make sure you get all the mess off of it. And finally, you have to make sure it looks as good as it did when you first took it out. After that, put it back in its spot until you need to use it again. And when you do clean it, make sure you start from the shaft and go all the way to butt end." "I know how to do it, I've watched you do it yourself a million times now." Boredom traced his voice. "Is that right? Well then Mr. Know It All, impress me", challenge laced her tone. "Fine then, get ready to be amazed. I'll polish this thing so good it'll glow in the dark. You'll be on your knees begging for me to do it for you again." "I highly doubt that, now to get to work." Soft grunting could be faintly heard and the men were on the verge of losing it. "This is getting to be too much, I'm ready to bust in and rain on their parade", chimed Breda, who was quickly shushed by the four other men. Riza's startled cry quickly drew their attention back in. "That's way too much lubrication Mustang! You're getting it all over the place! And stop rubbing it so violently, you're going to break it in half."
And with that the men lost all self control and burst into a symphony of laughter as they formed together and barreled through the door. When their eyes were finally cleared of their tears however, they stopped in their tracks. There stood an open-mouthed and shocked Mustang...foot braced on a chair, polishing cloth in one hand, Hawkeye's pistol in the other. Hawkeye, who was speechless, merely stood there unable to convince herself that what she saw was in fact reality. The two groups dumbfoundly faced each other for what seemed like eternity, neither one able to offer an explanation as to what they were up to. "Well, this is rather embarassing," Armstrong said as he cleared his throat and slowly began backing up towards the frame where the door had once been. "Yeah, we just are, you know, gonna leave now," Havoc managed to choke out as he turned heel and ran for his life, half scared, half humiliated. Breda, Fahlman, and Hughes immediately followed his lead. Feury adjusted his thick glasses as he stared at the floor, unable to piece together a logical reasoning for his being there. "I...I think I'm going to have a panic attack," he said weakly as he staggered out into the hall. "And as a good fellow soldier I should take heed and make sure that he's alright," Armstrong quickly said as he hurriedly trailed after Feury, grateful that he didn't have to make up his own excuse for his departure. That left Mustang and Hawkeye alone once again, only to exchange puzzled glances as to what exactly just happened. Hawkeye was the first to speak. "What the hell just happened," she threw Mustang a baffled glance. "I have not the slightest clue Hawkeye. But the way I see it, no one's coming back anytime soon which means we'll have this whole office to ourselves for the rest of the day," a smile slowly played on his lips as he turned to face her, "let's have sex."