There is a moment at the height of passion when his eyes empty of all expression. Lust, love, desire all fade away as they reach a climactic finish that transcends words, ripping forth only need-soaked screams.
At this sort of moment, his obsidian orbs are vacant, seeing nothing, leaving him vulnerable, an unusual position for a man like Roy Mustang. Because a man like Roy Mustang demands self-control and composure from himself, and for him to allow such an invasion requires a certain degree of trust. As odd as it may sound, it exacts quite a bit of confidence in his partner to allow himself to be exposed like this.
And it as at other moments where he regrets placing such unabashed trust in a person as devious and underhanded as Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Moments when Edward finds it terribly entertaining to leave Roy tied to a bed in a mere pair of midnight blue speedos, his ignition gloves and matches on the other side of the house, safely away from a certain irate Colonel.
-Fin-
Extra!Roy Mustang was just allowing the thought, 'At least things can't get any worse.' to meander through his mind when Fullmetal walked back into the bedroom with a camera, wearing a grin so nefarious it should be a crime. It was at times like these that Mustang could not have wished harder for just one good strong spark; as angry as he was, perhaps he could start a fire just by thinking about it enough.