Originally Published: April 8, 2021
Last Edited: April 5, 2022
A/N: I had to rewrite a scene in this chapter, and I just barely finished it. Gosh, reworking chapters is not easy. I'm hoping once I get everything fixed, I'll be good to keep writing new content. I'm still sitting on a barely touched chapter nineteen.
Sorry if there are a ton of errors. I did a quick edit and didn't spot anything major, so I'm going to let it be and review it later when I have more time. I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 13
Sleepless
Monday, April 26, 1915
"Colonel!" Riza's voice echoed as white light washed over him. Stunned, he blinked against the blinding brilliance. Breath catching, he took a step back, disoriented. From his peripheral, he noticed the black sleeves of his trench coat, the dirty white of his ignition gloves, the blue of his military jacket, but everything else...
How could somewhere be so white?
Where was he? He vaguely recalled hearing Hawkeye's cry for him, her voice strained and desperate. Where was she?
A foreboding sensation of eyes on his back made him glance over his shoulder. Turning, he looked at the white silhouette shrouded in a dark mist. Behind the figure stood an imposing metal wall. Eyes flicking to the dull metal, he recognized the symbolic sun of the Red King and behind it the entwining serpents of the White Queen. Berthold's Flame Alchemy Array, if designed differently than the tattoo on Riza's back.
Worried, Roy looked back to the silhouette, the strange reverberation of its chuckle filling the empty space as it grinned with bared teeth at him. The metal began to open towards them. Not a wall, a door. A gate.
Wide eyed, Roy turned to face them properly, his heart thudding wildly with the impending sense of doom. Where was Riza? As the gate opened the entire way, a lidless, gray irised eye opened wide, staring at him, piercing into his soul.
"What is this?" Roy asked, taking a hesitant step back from the sneering being and the open gate. "Where am I? Who are you? Where's my Lieutenant!"
"So many questions, so I'll answer the one I like best!" The silhouette lowered its chin to look at him with nonexistent eyes. Its toothy, white-tongued mouth remained in a wide, upturned, and taunting grin as it spoke. "I am called by many names: I am the World. I am the Universe. I am God. I am Truth. I am All. I am One. And I am also you." It lifted its finger, pointing at Roy to emphasize the last claim.
Roy stepped back again, hesitation growing. "Where do you think you're going? You are here and a toll must be paid for you to pass through. Unless you'd like to stay." It chuckled with the idea, "But if you decided that, you wouldn't be able to get back to your precious Queen."
Roy inhaled sharply, fists clenching as he stood his ground. "Where is she?" If this being was all the things it claimed to be, then its knowledge of Riza didn't seem so farfetched. His eyes flickered back to the metal doors, unable to see the engraving with the gate open. He grimaced at the thought of the alchemic array on its surface.
"You'll be with her soon enough," the Truth promised. Suddenly, from the edges of the massive eye shot black tendrils. On the ends of each were small, pudgy shaped hands, Roy's eyes widening with the memory they brought: shadowed hands clawing at his face as the Bradleys loomed over him.
He took an instinctive step back in an attempt to run. The tendrils caught him, wrapping around his body and yanking him towards the gate. Yelling in shock and protest, he was pulled over the Truth's head, straight towards the Eye. He could hear the doors thudding shut behind him as the white was replaced by darkness. The hands vanished, leaving him freefalling into the abyss.
Pops of light hit his eyes as new tendrils caught his body, images of his life steaming before his eyes. It felt like his head had been cracked open: theorems, equations, chemical reactions, physical laws came pouring into his mind. Refreshed information and distributing new.
Maes flashed before his eyes, stealing the last plate of spinach quiche in the cafeteria line.
His understanding of quantum physics seemed to have been so insignificant before, nuclear fusion coming clearly to his mind. He could be faster, more accurate with his Flame Alchemy.
A young Riza grinned up at him, holding an amaryllis, her eyes sparkling with appreciation.
He understood how Edward and Alphonse did their clapping transmutation. They were the matrix of their alchemy, creating the circle with their own bodies.
His aunt watched Vanessa and Madeline tease him about Elizabeth as he held a scotch in his grip.
A burning poker like pain pressed between his eyes, deepening to the center of his brain.
A two-limbed Edward sat in a wheelchair, Al's suit of armor standing behind him supportively.
Grumman laughed as he pinned Roy's king in a checkmate.
Havoc offered him a cigarette out in the courtyard during one of their old smoking breaks.
Izumi opened the bar door, stepping out into the blizzard, her back turned on him.
Riza's shocked expression as the Fuhrer candidate pulled his sword back, blood spurting from the slice along her jugular vein.
He closed his eyes against the memories, his throat burning as he yelled with agony. It had to stop. His mind was going to explode. Humankind was not meant to know all that was being poured- no, crammed into his head. He was coming undone, his eyes feeling strange, as if there were ash behind his eyelids. Opening them, blinking furiously, the world blurred to darkness.
At least the memories had stopped. His scream cut off as he tensed. There was still too much information, too much knowledge.
Suddenly, like a single drop of water falling into a pool, it all made perfect sense. The moment of lucidity made him widen his eyes in shock, his mind clearing.
He understood.
Something engulfed his body, and he was pushing and falling against it. His head broke through, a draft hitting his face as his body plummeted face first...
Sunday, May 2, 1915
Roy jerked awake with the plummeting sensation, his breath fast and shallow as perspiration clung to his skin. His eyes had snapped open to find it was just as dark as it had been with them closed.
Panic crawled up his chest and into his throat. His discipline as a soldier was all that held him still as he swiftly evaluated his situation.
There was an ache between his eyes, just above the bridge of his nose, the memory of the poker-like pain echoing back to him. Likewise, both of his palms throbbed painfully with each beat of his heart. His hands were wrapped thickly in bandages, the scent of antiseptic filling the air. The stiff mattress underneath him, as well as the scratchy wool blanket and stiff cotton of his clothes bespoke of a hospital.
That was right, he was in the hospital.
He was blind.
Riza...
His head swiveled left to look in the direction of his Lieutenant. Without thinking, he sat up, his mattress groaning under the shift in weight as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his palms silently protesting as he pushed himself off.
His bare feet smacked quietly onto the cold tile of the floor, a shiver running up from his soles to the tip of his head. He shuddered the chill off, taking a careful step forward, then a second. His hands reached out below waist level, searching for the room's second mattress, the hospital beds too low for his comfort. His hands found his quarry, the stiff form of the mattress and the scratchy wool greeting his fingers. He ran his touch up the side of the bed towards the headboard, discovering the metal frame easily. He paused, listening intently.
His ears picked up on the slow, smooth breaths coming from before him. She was asleep. Carefully, he bent his knees, lowering himself to the tile. Situated, he moved both of his elbows on top of the sheets. He clasped his bandaged hands before him and pressed the backs of his thumbs against the aching part of his forehead.
He said nothing. He did nothing. In the silence of their shared room, he stared blankly in the direction of her steady breathing. His ears strained to hear the world around him, filling in for what his eyes couldn't see.
The ceiling fan swooped above his head, the air softly stirring across his skin, cooling the traces of sweat from his dream. The building groaned around them, the creak of wind against the window panes behind him filling the quiet. A set of footsteps echoed from outside the door, a quiet murmur of voices between a member of the hospital staff and Breda reaching him. Haymens must be on guard duty.
A more prevalent sound reached him: Riza sighed heavily, shifting slightly on the mattress. He pulled his hands away from his face, eyes widening as he tried to gage her reaction. A long silence made him relax, her deep breathing indicating she still slept.
He sighed, crossing his arms on top of the bed and lowering his chin to rest on them. The pricking of his thickening scruff against his arms made him frown slightly. A nurse had helped him shave the first morning after the Promised Day, the experience uncomfortable and invasive. Trusting a stranger with a blade near his neck had repeated images of Riza's neck being sliced flashing across his mind.
He'd readily decided to refuse help again. It wouldn't be much longer though, as Breda had reported Havoc's agreement to get on a train in the morning to return to Central.
Havoc. Marcoh. Knox. Ross. Fuery. Breda. Falman. Fullmetal. Alphonse. Olivier. Alex. Grumman.
Riza.
He sighed again, tempted to reach out for her. She was right there, just in front of him. Her shocked, hazel gaze was burned into his mind, blood pooling from her neck.
Why? Why had the last thing he'd seen in the Portal of Truth been her bleeding to death? He shifted, pressing the heels of his palms against his eye sockets, trying to banish the image.
He had things to do. He had Ishval to restore and a country to save. He couldn't afford distractions. Yet every time he wasn't busily preparing for the months and years ahead, his mind returned to that moment. The panic. The fear. Her limp body in his arms as she hovered on the brink of death. The stern insistence in her eyes that he let her die...
"Sir?" Roy started at the cracked sound of her voice. He pulled his hands away from his face, head turning towards the sound. "What are you doing up?"
"Ah- Sorry Lieutenant. I uh- I couldn't sleep."
She shifted, the mattress groaning under the movement, the blanket tugging under his elbows. "So you're kneeling on the cold, hard ground next to my bed?" she chided, her tone gentle.
He smirked, defaulting to his air of confidence. "You always point out how poorly I think things through."
"What's wrong, Colonel?"
He exhaled heavily through his nose, bracing his hands on the edge of the bed, ready to push himself to his feet. This wasn't a conversation he could allow himself. He'd lost that right the night he'd burned her back.
Before he could stand, her fingers gripped his wrist, pulling him to an instant halt. "Sir," her low timbre insisted, squeezing his wrist gently.
How he wanted to hold that hand in return.
He squeezed his eyes shut, remembering the Gateway and Truth sitting before it. "When I was taken into the Portal by Pride, I saw... things before my vision was taken. They were memories of people and places, visually replaying through my mind while all this information was crammed into my head." He reached up, pressing his middle digit against the still throbbing center of his forehead.
"The last thing I saw before my eyesight dissolved- was you. The moment your neck was sliced. It haunts me, Lieutenant. I- I had to know you were safe. I had to know you were alive."
She shifted in her bed, drawing closer. To his surprise, her arms wrapped around his shoulders, her forehead pressing against his shoulder, hot breath fluttering across his skin. "I'm here, Sir."
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant. For scolding you after the Third Laboratory. It was insensitive of me. It was..."
"Sir! You were right," she interrupted, her arms squeezing him more. "I lost my composure in battle and gave up before knowing for myself what your fate really was. What you told me got me through months under Bradley and through the entirety of the Promised Day."
"It was cold," he protested, turning his face towards hers. She lifted her forehead to create some space, her arms pulling away. Her location felt like a great mystery without the contact, despite knowing she was still right there.
"Sir, you knew what I needed to hear and you told me. I don't intend to argue about this further," she determined. "Now, what about you? What do you need?"
Before he let himself think better of it, he reached out, finding stiff cotton covering her body heat. He discovered she was sitting up as she gasped with his touch. He wrapped his arms around her, climbing up onto the bed next to her. He pulled her tightly against his chest, feeling the curve of her pressed against him.
"Sir," she protested, her voice a harsh whisper right next to his face. He flexed his arms around her possessively.
"I just have to know you're alive. Please..." he swallowed hard, preparing himself mentally for the next word, "Riza, please." She was silent, the fan above creaking slightly. His already cold feet were chilled further by the airflow as he sat over the blanket, exposed.
Slowly, her body relaxed, her arms softly snaking around his torso as she returned his embrace. "You'll have to go back to your own bed, Sir."
"Give me twenty minutes."
She shifted slightly in his arms. "R- Sir," she tried, her voice wavering slightly.
"Please," he begged. She sighed in defeat, her body lowering to lay back down. He followed her lead, his head finding the edge of her pillow. He pulled her body against his, seeking her heat.
He wanted to caress her side. He kept his hands still. He wanted to nuzzle her and inhale her scent. He stayed back and breathed normally. He wanted to find her lips and kiss her softly in the void. He tightened his jaw and resisted. He wanted to reach down, feel across the curve of her hips and rear, and grope the length of her thighs. A lump formed in his throat, arousal threatening between his legs.
While he silently warred with himself, Riza's breath slowed and deepened. Time stretched on as he continued to hold her against his chest. Had she fallen asleep? The longer he lay in the void, the more he was certain she had. It'd be rude to get up now and he didn't really want to. She was so warm, her breath softly brushing his neck. Why couldn't they just stay like this forever? Silent and intimate.
Perhaps, just a bit longer.
Monday, September 16, 1918
Riza's mind filtered back to consciousness, her eyes fluttering open to find the room still mostly dark save for the glow coming from the hallway light. In addition to the artificial light, a gray haze came from the drawn curtain, telling of the coming dawn. She exhaled slowly, her fist curling around the sheets in frustration. Sleep had continually evaded her throughout the night, short spurts of unconsciousness her only relief from the worry and whirling of her mind.
Black Hayate lay curled up next to her feet, his fur tickling her soles with his deep, slow breaths. Roy's hulking figure lay behind her, his breath too quiet for him to be sleeping. She rolled onto her back, turning her face towards him.
After a moment, his own face turned towards hers, a silence permeating the room. She rolled closer, careful to not kick Hayate as she wrapped an arm around Roy's abdomen. He sighed gently, meeting her with his own turn, his arms curling around her properly and pulling their chests flush with one another.
"Any luck?" he murmured softly.
"A little. Not enough to feel rested. You?"
He gave no answer, silently nuzzling her shoulder, hands rubbing her back in slow circles, the silky fabric of her pajama top shifting between their skin.
"Sir," she pressed, "Have you slept at all?"
His arms tightened around her as he sighed heavily, his breath rushing across her skin. "I couldn't. Riza, I'm sorry. This only happened because I didn't stop and think."
She shifted a knee to rest on his thigh, properly slinking her own arms around him. He suddenly huffed against her skin, his body tensing slightly. "I told you, it was my fault too," she murmured, pulling her face back as she met his shadowed gaze. He shook his head, trying to pull back from her. Frowning, she clutched to him tighter, scooting closer. "Roy..." she began to protest as a sensation suddenly gave his retreat a double meaning. His erection pressed against her pelvis, sending a shiver up her spine with mixed apprehension and arousal.
"Oh..."
"Maybe I should get up. With promotions, it's bound to be a long day," he offered, trying to pull away again.
She clutched at his shirt, desire suddenly flooding her veins. The memory from the morning before sent butterflies to her stomach. Biting her lower lip, she hooked her leg around his to keep him close.
"Ri..."
"You didn't even ask if I was interested. That's a good way to not get laid, Sir," she whispered breathily.
"Hayate's here," he protested.
"I don't care. Roy," she moaned his name, rocking her hips against him as a stronger need washed through her.
He inhaled sharply, hands shifting to cup her cheeks. "How are you feeling? Are you still sore?"
She moaned again, her panties already soaking with anticipation. She shifted her grip to his shoulders, rolling them both over so she was on top, straddling his waist. She felt the blankets fall down from covering her back, cool air brushing her skin as she began grinding against his length, heat flushing through her body.
He grunted in surprise, his hands naturally falling to her hips, groping her thighs as he bucked up against her. "Hawkeye- are you sure?" She froze, tensing on top of him as every ounce of her arousal suddenly puffed away like smoke. Roy pushed himself up to his elbows, brows furrowing in concern, "Hawkeye?"
"Don't. Don't call me that. I mean, at work it's fine, but like this?" she looked away, climbing off of him and moving to sit on the edge of the mattress, back to him.
He sat up behind her, his touch brushing her waist, causing her to flinch. "Ri... I didn't..."
She buried her face in her hands, digging her fingers through her hair. "Of course you didn't. How would you even know?"
He shifted to sit beside her, an arm coiling around her waist as he brushed her hair back over her shoulder. "It really bothers you that much?"
She lifted her face, lowering her hands to rest in her lap. "I want nothing to do with that man and I carry his name around with me everywhere I go."
He was quiet for a moment, fixing her bangs and brushing her fringe. "What about a name change?"
"It's a bit late for that. I had the thought about two weeks into the Academy, but my instructors and classmates were already used to calling me Hawkeye. Then I met my grandfather and Grumman was the name I had been considering taking on. I quickly realized that would be a bad idea at that point."
He leaned closer, softly tracing a kiss on her cheek, squeezing her closer against him. He suddenly chuckled against her skin as he asked, "Is it a bad time to bring up wanting to get married again? You could be Riza Mustang."
Despite herself, a soft smile found her lips with the sound of that name. She turned to look at him, a warmth in his eyes to match the feeling in her chest. "Have you come up with the how, yet? I'll listen."
He hummed, pressing his forehead against hers as he began rubbing her back again. "Have you considered running away with me? We can go to Xing."
She gave a single chuckle, wrapping her arms around his middle. "I'd be the only blonde there. We could be tracked easily, and our pasts would come haunting us."
"You wouldn't be the only blond," Roy protested, his hand slipping to her waist, his touch feather light before he tickled her. She squealed with the sensation, squirming in his grasp as she pulled her elbows to her sides, trying to protect herself. "I believe a certain Alphonse has been spending a lot of time there recently. We could invite him and Miss Chang over for dinner," he explained lightly, still trying to tickle her, his hands fast and slick.
"Roy!" she yelped, falling back to the bed, trying to squirm away. He grinned, following her and catching her wrists, pinning them beside her head as he hovered over her.
"How about it, my Àirén?"
Breathless, she met his gaze, instinct still telling her to squirm away, but part of her enjoying being man-handled by him. "What does that mean?"
His playful expression twitched slightly, his eyes growing unfocused as he thought on it. "I- my father used to call my mother that. She always smiled when he did. I think- it's an endearing version of 'wife'...?" She inhaled slowly, her eyes flicking down to his mouth as his gaze focused back on her. "Of course I know we can't just run away, but- it's nice to dream."
She looked at his eyes again, warmth flooding her slowly. She gently eased her legs apart, inviting him silently. His gaze flickered down, his hands squeezing her wrists. "Riza..." he breathed. The sound hung between them for a long moment, his eyes filled with regret and guilt, the heat from a few moments before gone.
"Sir," her voice broke as his eyes flashed at the address. "Roy," she corrected, "are we- are we really going to let this keep us apart again?"
He opened his mouth, inhaling to speak, just for words to visibly fail him. Guilt mixed with shame as he pulled back, his gaze evading hers.
"You're right. We should get ready," she whispered, pulling her knees back together as disappointment and rejection seeped through her bones. He slowly climbed off of her and the bed, offering to help her to her feet. She took his hand, but as soon as she was up, he pulled back again.
"I'll go make breakfast- if you want to go shower," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he moved over to the door, stepping out. Behind her, Hayate climbed out of the sheets, thudding to the ground and shaking himself awake. His collar rang with the movement, Riza sighing as she hugged herself in Roy's absence.
What was the point? They'd crossed the line that they never should have and now all there was was regret and distance. As she trudged to the bathroom, she turned the lights on, leaving the door open as she glanced sideways, looking at her reflection.
Her hair hung down her back, tattoo and burns hidden by the silky blue fabric of her pajamas. She turned to face the glass properly, the purple marks around the base of her neck drawing her gaze. She lifted a hand to trace the bruising, the memory of his kisses not bringing back the same heat it had yesterday.
Riza Mustang.
It was a million times better than Hawkeye, but right now it didn't feel like it would ever actually happen. Staring at herself, she became aware of the bags under her hazel eyes, her skin paler than usual. Inhaling slowly, she prepared herself to move forward. It was all she could do.
Roy's footsteps shifted from the kitchen below, Riza glancing over to see him climbing up the stairs. Three steps from the top, he finally looked up, hand on the railing as he met her eyes. He froze, doing a double take over her body before focusing on her eyes again.
"Are you alright?"
She hesitated, mentally evaluating herself. Depressed was the word that came to mind, but she shoved it aside, not wanting to worry or guilt him further. "I'm tired," she whispered faintly. It wasn't a lie, so it didn't hurt to say. It just wasn't the complete truth. It was a tactic she'd used for years now with him to get through the painful and lonely days.
He held her gaze for a long moment before climbing the last of the stairs, slowly approaching her. "You're right. We- I shouldn't let yesterday stand between us."
She hugged herself more tightly, hesitance creeping into her as he stopped in the doorway of the bathroom, his dark eyes just as tired as she felt. She didn't know how to reply, her heart beginning to pound in her ears as he took another step closer.
"I thought you were making breakfast."
"You're more important," he breathed, stepping closer again, her head tilting to hold his gaze as he stood over her, only inches away.
"We have work," she tried again, heat burning just under the skin of her chest.
He lifted a hand to her chin, softly pinching it between his thumb and fingers. His lips parted as he inhaled sharply, body trembling through their touch. "We have time."
She glanced over him, not looking long enough to process what she saw beyond the white of his shirt and the blue green of his flannels. She met his gaze again, easing her arms from hugging herself as she twisted towards him, reaching to grab a fistful of his shirt above his abdomen.
"No we don't. Thank you for coming back, but this should wait until..."
He suddenly swooped in to capture her lips, his tongue sliding into her mouth and cutting off her words. Her breath caught with his taste and warmth as she met his tongue greedily, her free hand gripping a fistful of his hair as she stepped closer, pressing herself flush with him.
She knew it should wait, but her arousal was warming back up, and quickly with his obvious interest pressing stiffly against her hip. He pulled his tongue back, nipping at her lower lip carnally as her breath grew shallow, her breasts heaving against the solid wall of his torso.
She pulled back from his mouth, ducking her face as she struggled to catch her breath. His lips grazed the crest of her ear, warm breath tickling her skin. "Well, my Queen?"
Her mouth twitched instinctively with unspoken words, her mind coming up with no sound to accompany the movement. She lifted her eyes to meet his, cheeks burning as she saw the desire behind his obsidian gaze. Swimming for what she wanted to say, she exhaled heavily. Why was it so hard to speak?
Giving up on words, she pulled him down into another kiss, both hands curling into his hair as she pressed her tongue into his mouth, moaning lowly as heat rippled through her. He hissed slightly, hands running across her silky pajamas eagerly, one resting at the hollow of her lower back, the other running down her hip to grope her thigh.
Growing lightheaded, she broke the kiss, panting against his skin as she released his hair, running her hands down his neck and shoulders. He shifted, pressing kisses along her cheek to her jaw and her earlobe. He briefly ran his tongue under the hinge of her jaw and ear, making her shudder as her legs nearly turned to liquid. Arms clinging to his shoulders, she sagged in his grasp, nuzzling his neck as she gasped for breath.
He exhaled a single chuckle before he shifted to pick her up, cradling her in his arms bridal style. Face heating from embarrassment, she pulled back to meet his fiery gaze. "I can stand by myself, Sir," she protested.
He laughed warmly, the sound reverberating in his chest as he ducked to rub his nose against hers. "Sure you can, but I messed up a few things yesterday. I'm going to get them right today," he promised, turning out of the bathroom.
He took extra care to not bump her head or feet as he passed through the two doorways to the master bed, Riza catching a glimpse of Hayate at the bottom of the stairs, watching them with suspicion. She laughed at the sight, tightening her grip around Roy's shoulders. "I think Black Hayate's onto you," she warned playfully as he eased her back into bed.
"Oh, shit," Roy whispered, pulling away and rushing to close the door.
She giggled at his mock sneaking, the door latching shut and leaving them in the half light seeping through the curtains from the rising sun. "Are you that worried he'll catch us?" she asked as he came back, pausing at his nightstand and pulling out the little drawer.
He glanced at her, a smirk on the edge of his mouth as he grabbed something that crinkled in his hand, closing the drawer again. "I don't want to share you while we're being intimate. Even with him."
Smiling with his almost possessive words, she glanced down at his occupied hand. "What's that?" she asked, reaching for his hand. He blinked in surprise, handing over the small square of plastic. Holding it up with both hands, she examined it, "A- condom?" she guessed, looking back at him.
He casually pulled his shirt over his head, giving Riza a good view of his finely chiseled abdomen. A tightness coiled up inside her, and not just between her legs. She had to swallow hard past the lump in her throat as he pulled his head free, loose black hair tousled from the fabric.
"I bought quite a few when I went shopping on Saturday. I- was being optimistic. I know touch isn't your preferred show of affection, but..." he trailed off as he met her gaze, her cheeks heating as she knew he could likely see the desire in her eyes.
She sat up, moving her legs over the side of the bed. She kept them open invitingly as she abandoned the plastic on the sheets. Reaching for him, she hesitated, pulling back as she worried her touch wouldn't be welcomed.
"Ri, you can touch me," he offered lightly, almost like he could read her mind again. Bending down, he gently took her wrist, his thumb resting in her palm as she curled her fingers with his grasp. He hovered a few inches away from her face, his midnight eyes warm and gentle. "You can touch me anytime you want, in any way you'd like."
She paused for a long moment before shaking her head, "I-I'm not used to that."
"I know. That's why I'm giving you an open invitation. If I don't like it, I'll let you know. I just expect you to do the same." There was a brief flash of authority in his voice, her Commanding Officer making an appearance as he squeezed her wrist.
"Yes, Sir," she whispered, heart thundering with thrill at the power play.
The General in Roy retreated, leaving just her lover and friend behind as his gaze softened. "I think we're both a bit overdressed," he whispered, dropping her wrist as his hands gently found her waist, inching up her hem. His fingers grazed her belly softly, the touch catching her breath as he glided his fingers up to her breasts. His hands cupped under her mounds, lifting them in a smooth motion. Lips parting, she glanced down as he ran his thumbs slowly over her nipples under her shirt.
She met his gaze again, her body burning pleasantly. His ebony eyes watched her attentively, "Like that?" he whispered.
She nodded, his mouth drawing her again. Their lips brushed, his scarred palms massaging her as they nipped and pulled at each other's lips tenderly.
She huffed, reaching for her shirt and pulling back to rip the fabric off over her head. His hands moved to her hips, hoisting her further back on the bed. She scrambled to help him, shirt discarded on the sheets as she scooched back. She hooked her fingers under the band of her panties and bottoms, pushing them off swiftly as he crawled onto the bed above her. She fell down to her elbows as he caught her mouth yet again, one of his hands wrapping around her waist as he eased her down to the mattress.
She moaned as he pulled back, her entire body straining to follow him as he loitered over her. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his, his parted lips wet and swollen from their kissing. His charcoal gaze was alight with desire as he reached down, pushing his pants down.
At the sight of his manhood, she blinked, pushing herself up to an elbow again, "Condom," she breathed, but he was already moving to dig through the sheets for it as she spoke. Joining him, they both searched until he found it, instantly lifting the package to his mouth, tearing it open with his teeth.
Unsure what to do with herself, she watched as he rolled it on, easing herself back to the bed. A thought hit her and she shifted her hand to grab his length. He met her gaze in surprise, "If you want to give me a hand job, I'd prefer it before I put on a condom."
"No I..." she laughed nervously, stroking his length once, "You put the safety on. Like a gun," she explained weakly, worried her joke wouldn't land.
After a heartbeat, he gave a half suppressed guffaw. Tackling her, his arms wrapped around her middle as he snorted against her shoulder. "The- the safety? Riza!"
She giggled brightly, cradling his waist between her thighs as her torso arched instinctively to press against his. She coiled her arms around his broad shoulders, running her fingers idly across the expanse of his back. "Roy, we're going to run out of time," she whispered against his ear.
"Right- right," he chuckled, lifting his face to grin playfully down at her. "Are you ready, or do we need to play a little longer?"
Play? It took her a second to translate the word to foreplay, her smile fading as she moved a hand to run up and down his muscular arm admiringly. "I'm ready," she whispered, heart thundering in her throat at the promise of his penetration.
His own playfulness seemed to melt, his hands shifting to her rear, rotating her hips easily into a better position. He licked his lips, a hint of nervousness behind his eyes. "Are you...?" he cleared his throat slightly, grimacing.
She brushed the stubble along his jaw, his hair prickling her skin pleasantly. "I want you, Roy."
He exhaled slowly, hovering closer as his lips dusted hers, his kiss tender and light. She matched his passion, tempted to run for the finish, but settling herself to go at his pace.
He deepened the kiss a bit, pressing his lips more warmly against hers. She hummed in approval, running her hand from his jaw into his hair. He inhaled sharply against her mouth, a hand running up her side, caressing the edge of her breast tantalizingly as he licked her lips, heat growing between them.
Whining softly, she gripped his shoulder with her free hand, tangling her fingers deeper into his hair as she instinctively thrust her hips towards him. He grunted as the motion made their sexes grind across each other, his mouth ducking from hers to nip at her clavicle.
His hips finally began pressing against hers, his member sliding into her folds as he released his bite, licking her skin as he moved back down to her breasts. Head tossing back into the sheets, she groaned openly. "Roy, get in me," she begged, blood roaring through her veins. Licking her nipple, he lifted his head. Opening her eyes, she found him hovering over her, his gaze heavy. His enchanting midnight eyes held her still as he aligned their sexes, stealing her breath as he paused for a tauntingly long moment. "Roy?"
He pierced into her, his own, soft gasp filling the air. Her breath caught, her neck tilting back against the sheets as her already open mouth widened. He felt just as huge as before, his size consuming her mind. Eyes heavy, she focused on him, his face flush, his own lips parted and eyes hazy with desire. He began a warm, deep, steady rhythm of thrusts into her, the sensation different from before. Her face twitched involuntarily, trying her best to not let herself be bothered by the change.
"Does it hurt?" He murmured, her focus returning to him. His thrusts didn't stop, but he was clearly present enough to actually process her reactions.
She wetted her lips, shaking her head, "No. It's the... it's the..."
He nodded, "I feel it too."
She closed her eyes focusing on the feel of their friction. "It still feels good," she promised, trying to thrust back, the added sensation made her body blossom with more warmth, encouraging her to continue.
"Good," he huffed, neck bending down to kiss her collarbone, his teeth grazing her skin. Exhaling, she let herself lose her sense of time, wrapped up in the feel of their love making. His hands shifted to her thighs, pulling them higher like he'd tried the day before- and blessedly, there was no pain this time.
His kisses stopped as he nuzzled against her shoulder, his breath heavy as his thrusts grew more desperate and jagged. Her eyes fluttered open as she looked down at him, his hair just below her cheek. She moved a hand to run through it, the strands enviably soft between her fingers as he began panting.
"Are you close, Roy?" She breathed, dipping her mouth to kiss his ear. A shudder resounded through his body, his hands tensing on her thighs. "You can come. I want you to. You've taken care of me, let me take care of you."
He grunted, another shudder running through him as he bit down on her shoulder, causing her breath to catch. She moaned for the first time since his penetration, her fingers tightening on his shoulder and digging into the roots of his hair. "Roy," she breathed against his ear, squeezing with her thighs.
He groaned, panting wildly against her neck as he lost all sense of rhythm to his thrusts, his body spasming in her arms. After a few moments he exhaled in a huff, nearly collapsing on top of her, his face buried between her breasts.
Unseen to him, a delighted smile found her as she wrapped her arms behind his shoulders and held him close. To know she could please him- she could make him feel that way gave her a high of pleasure so much more significant than her own orgasm.
His gravelly voice interrupted her thoughts as he said, "You didn't climax."
She gently moved to cup his stubbled jaw, guiding his face so they could meet each other's gaze. "No," she replied, her smile still bright. "But you did. I don't think you understand what that means to me."
He exhaled, his lack of sleep and the high energy of their intimacy seeming to catch up with him in that one breath, his expression betraying his exhaustion. "Let me take care of you," he murmured, finally pulling out of her. She shuddered as that same hollow, empty feeling returned in his absence, making her long for more.
He froze, gauging her reaction worriedly. "Did I hurt you?"
She shook her head, running a comforting hand across his stubble. "No. It just-" her cheeks heated with the concept, not eager to share such an intimate detail.
His worry didn't abate, determination mixing with the expression. He would push for it if she didn't tell him. Besides, if she couldn't tell him, who could she tell? "I... When you... I feel hollow inside when you're not in me. Physically- and probably emotionally too. It just- feels wrong, almost," she laughed nervously, breaking her gaze from him as she continued. "I know I've spent my whole life without, but right after... I felt it yesterday too."
Still avoiding his gaze, his lips gently pressed against her cheek. "If I could stop you from feeling like that, I would. Oh, god, Riza. If I could be in you constantly..." he nuzzled her neck again, inhaling through his nose sharply.
She smiled weakly, fingers lightly tracing his back again. "We'd get absolutely nothing done like that, Sir."
"Sure we would. The most important thing in the entire world: Loving you. Speaking of..." he lifted himself up again, hand running down her abdomen to her pelvis.
She shook her head, catching his wrist gently to stop him. "Later. I'm not going anywhere, Sir, and we need to get ready for work."
He closed his eyes, sighing regretfully as he pulled away, the cold air suddenly engulfing her. Goosebumps covered her skin as Roy helped her back out of bed again. This time he pulled her closer, leaving a tender kiss on her lips as he brushed her hair behind her ear.
Laughing lightly, she pulled back, grabbing his pocket watch from the nightstand and opening the face. "Oh shit," she nearly jumped out of her skin at the time, dropping the watch on the bed unceremoniously. "We have thirty minutes until work," she snapped, darting past him and rushing into the guest room.
"Ri!" he called after her.
"If you're late for promotions... Damn. Of all days," she muttered while pulling out fresh underwear and a turtleneck, only then realizing how desperately she needed a shower. Struggling for a brief second with her need for punctuality and hygiene, she abandoned her clothes on top of the dresser. Breaking into the bathroom she found Roy already there, cleaning himself up hastily, throwing the used condom into the trash.
He looked up at her as she stepped into the shower, grabbing the washcloth and wetting it quickly. "I don't have time to shave," he informed offhandedly. "That's a bad move for my first day as a full rank General."
"Good," she dismissed, giving herself the fastest sponge bath of her life, lathering only the important areas.
"'Good'? What do you mean by 'good'?" he demanded, walking up to the side of the tub, giving her a baffled expression.
She avoided his gaze as she began rising soap off, shoving the sudsy washcloth into his hand. "I like it," she admitted, cheeks heating.
"You- like it?"
"Yes," she clipped, turning off the water and grabbing a towel.
"You like it," he repeated, his voice growing more cocky.
She rolled her eyes, stepping out past him and snatching her hairbrush from the counter. She left him there, quickly returning to the guest room as she called over her shoulder, "Get dressed, Sir."
She began doing so herself, her movements brisk and quick as she pulled on her uniform. Grabbing her Captain's jerkin, she hesitated at the sight of her Major's uniform. She'd need to pack that to change into after the promotions ceremony. She swiftly did so, moving back to the master bedroom to find Roy buttoning up his shirt, "Don't forget to bring your new uniform, Sir," she offered, grabbing his watch and nearly choking at the time. So much for breakfast. "I have to make some tea."
"Can't you do that at the office?" he called after her as she rushed downstairs, hastily pulling the brush through her hair as she went.
"If I can do that at the office, then you can shave at the office," she snapped back. She grabbed Hayate's kibble and scooped some into his dish. "Quickly, boy. We're going to be late."
She snatched two pieces of bread, slipping them into the toaster on the counter and starting the timer. He was right, she didn't have time to brew her tea. She just hoped things would be calm enough at work so she could take it within an hour. Abandoning her brush on the bar, she grabbed a few teabags from the container Vanessa had given her, taking some extra to stash in her desk in case they had to pull late hours.
Roy rushed downstairs, his steps heavy as he came into the kitchen. "I thought you liked my facial hair," he teased, hands catching her from behind around her waist as he kissed her cheek over her shoulder.
Her face heated as she brushed her hair over her shoulder, intentionally hitting his face with it. "You're right. You have your professional image to keep up." she dismissed as the toast popped. She pulled away from him to swiftly butter the two slices. She shoved one into Roy's hand and took a bite of her own. Stepping quickly out of the kitchen, Hayate didn't need prompting to abandon what remained in his bowl, moving to her heels as she grabbed his leash from the mud closet.
"Plenty of officers pull off facial hair. Your grandfather, Armstrong, Hughes..." he trailed off, voice wilting with the last name. He needed a distraction.
"Is it raining today?" she asked evasively, bending down to clip Hayate's leash on as she ate her toast with a dismissive haste.
He cursed under his breath, moving to the window and checking out the curtain. "Thank god, the skies are clear."
"Then let's go," she urged, moving to the door.
"Wait, Ri!" He drew her to a stop, his hand on her elbow as she turned back to look at him.
"Yes?"
"Let me... I'll be right there, start the car," he dug in his pocket and passed his keys over. As his hand took hers, he quickly pecked her lips before sprinting up the stairs.
A soft smile found her as she watched him go. "Don't forget your uniform," she reminded again, hugging her Major's uniform to her chest. Shaking her head, she unlocked the door and stepped out, Hayate almost instantly dragging her to the flower bed to relieve himself. The moment he finished, they continued to Roy's car. Climbing into the driver's seat, she started the engine up as Roy briskly came out of the house, his change of clothes in hand.
"We're going to be late," Roy murmured as he closed his door behind him.
"We're cutting it close," she agreed, pulling out of the drive and onto the road.
"You don't sound too worried," she could hear the smirk in his voice as she kept her gaze on the road, both hands on the wheel. With her lack of response, he changed the topic, "So, you like my facial hair?"
"What of it?" she clipped, mentally preparing herself for work and the challenge she expected the day to present. It had been difficult enough being around him constantly and having feelings for him but not being able to act on them. The mental image of him thrusting into her was hardly appropriate for work. Now that they had crossed that line...
"Ri?"
She sighed, her grip relaxing on the wheel. "We need to establish boundaries, Sir. Our relationship has drastically changed and that cannot affect our work relationship."
"Ah, your 'conditions' you forgot to bring up Saturday night," he said lightly. She glanced over to find his elbow on the windowsill, his chin resting on his fist as he stared out sullenly.
"Our work relationship cannot change," she pressed on, trying not to let his attitude make her retreat. "No touching, no flirting, no informal behavior. We can't sneak anywhere private for intimate activities. We can't lock ourselves in your office."
"Understood, Captain," he grumbled.
"Your petulant attitude isn't helping," she snapped. "This is to protect us, Roy. We're still in the Military to make a difference. We can't do that if we compromise ourselves in the process."
He exhaled, the leather seat creaking as he turned to face her. "Of course, I understand. I'm just not thrilled. We've made so much progress this weekend and we have to go back and pretend like none of it happened."
"We're not," she protested, "We're just keeping work separate from our personal lives."
"I get it, Captain," he dismissed, voice flat. "I'll take care to behave normally."
"Thank you," she glanced his way, meeting his gaze briefly before turning back to the road. "That still leaves the problem of where I live."
"What? I thought we'd agreed you were living with me?" he demanded.
"We talked about it, but we didn't come to a decision," she explained simply.
"Riza, you stayed for three nights!"
"Yes, and I thank you for your hospitality, Sir. I still think it would be best if I..."
He grabbed her hand roughly from the steering wheel, cutting her words off. She looked over at him, eyes widening as he pressed something metal into her palm. She rolled the key to her fingers, forcing her eyes back to the road.
"That's yours, my Àirén. My Captain. My Queen. I want you to live with me. I want you in my house, my bed, my arms. If you live elsewhere you steal away what limited time we have to be us. Please. I try to ask for as little as possible from you because I know the influence I have on you. It will kill me to sleep apart from you again."
She inhaled sharply, jerkily pulling over to the side of the road, stopping the car with a jolt.
It was foolish. It was dangerous.
And it was all she wanted.
She gripped the key and wheel tighter in frustration. Want. It was reckless to want such a thing and to actually consider giving into it.
"Do you want kids? With me."
Her stomach writhed with the memory, her heart speeding up as Roy waited silently for her response. "Roy," she hissed, fist curling around the key. "It's not safe. Five people in two days. Our first two days! It's not sustainable. It bodes ill for our ability to keep things private."
"All five are people we can trust," he protested.
"People you can trust," she threw back, her tired mind almost instantly regretting it as she looked over at him.
His jaw clenched, eyes hard as he leaned back into his seat. He turned his gaze forward, staring out the windshield as he clenched his fists in his lap. Black Hayate between them whimpered slightly, clearly uncomfortable with the tension in the car.
"Do what you want. We're late for work," he whispered.
Want. Part of her wanted to charge on, explain to him she did want to live with him. The first two nights had been the best sleeps she'd had in years. Last night hadn't been because of the oppressive worry about being pregnant and being found out. If there was a way to make it seem like she wasn't living with him when she actually was...
"Captain, we need to go to Headquarters," he pressed as she sat staring at him. She started slightly, turning her attention back towards the wheel.
They were both tired and worried about their situation, the risks involved, and their levels of confidence in handling the secrecy. Working so closely with Roy all these years, it surprised her they were having this argument at all.
They were both tired.
She moved both hands back to the wheel, checking for traffic before pulling from the side of the road.
What she wanted. She hated the word. Hated the challenge. She did what was necessary. Her entire life since her mother's death had been based on needs, wants quickly being shoved aside. She'd needed food. She'd needed a place to live. She'd needed to minimize the wrath of her insane father. She needed to protect herself from men like Berthold and Kimblee. She'd needed to pay for the murders she'd brought to Ishval. She needed to get Roy to Fuhrer.
Friday night, after fighting her feelings for him for nearly fifteen years, she'd needed to give in. She had and suddenly everything was in the 'want' territory. Ishval was resolved, and though she felt insufficient in what had been accomplished, there was little else to do. She was financially stable. She was capable of defending and protecting herself and others from people who meant harm.
The only need left was Roy becoming Fuhrer, and with her grandfather's illness, she knew it was months away at this rate. What was left?
Wants?
Maybe Roy pushing for her wants was what she- needed.
So, what did she need to fulfill her want to live with him? "I'll figure it out," she whispered, shifting awkwardly to push the key into her pocket.
"What?" Roy asked wearily.
"I need time, but I'll figure it out. I'll figure out how to live with you. To keep it quiet."
He sighed, "Ri, no. You're right. There's a huge risk..."
"I want to," she interrupted, her stomach twisting with the confession. "And I..." she tried, her voice catching on her attempted confession. It was too big. She wasn't ready. She had to fill the void with something smaller. Something she could manage today. She swallowed as she pulled into the parking lot, coming up with something nearly as intimidating, if just a hair less so.
Parking in Roy's designated spot, she cut the engine, sweat percolating inside her palms. They sat there for a long moment before he reached over, squeezing her thigh comfortingly. "Tell me when you're ready," he whispered. Strengthening his voice, he pulled back. "Come on, Captain. We have a busy day ahead."