Originally Published: June 3, 2021
Last Edited: April 6, 2022
A/N: Royai Day is in 8 days. It was about a year ago that I finished watching Brotherhood for the first time (I know, I'm super late to the party). I remember walking away from the show and saying, "Wow, I really ship Roy and Riza. I want to find some fanfict... wow, that's a lot of fanfiction." Then I realized it was two or three days after Royai day, and I felt like I had missed out on an opportunity.
I'm not sure an extra chapter is the way I want to celebrate Royai. Where we're at in this story, it wouldn't make much sense to have a fluff chapter, and I don't want to disjoint the story by forcing it in. I looked at the prompts for Royai Week 2021 and while I appreciate Queen's Gambit, I'm not comfortable enough to make a story off of that. Then there's the fact that both of Taylor Swift's albums Folklore and Evermore have been a huge inspiration for this story, so I don't see a point in doing a one shot on 'Illicit Affairs'. I already did a chapter named 'Communiques', and 'Serene' and 'Valediction' aren't invoking any ideas for me.
I guess I'm asking for opinions or suggestions over the next two days. I think a one shot would be nice. And me, I love smut, so I'm open to that. The only idea I've been able to come up with is where Roy or Riza is sick and the other comes over to take care of them. That's such a trope though, I'm worried it's just over done.
Anyways, sorry for blabbing. Suggestions are welcomed over the next two days. Enjoy Chapter 20!
Chapter 20
Articulated
Tuesday, May 9, 1893
"Zumi, wait up for me!" Roy called, running out the front door of the Bar as he chased after his sister and her longer strides. The afternoon sun shone warmly down on them, the scent of flowers tickling his nose.
Izumi sighed heavily, knocking her head back, the movement tossing her dark locks of hair. At fourteen, she'd begun hitting her growth spurt, Roy only vaguely aware of her hips curving and her breasts budding as they made no difference to him. But her height... It had been bad enough a year ago, but now she was only half a head shorter than most of the girls at the Bar- when they weren't wearing high heels. "You really do need to get yourself some friends," she bemoaned.
Roy slowed to a brisk walk besides her, panting a little in his attempt to keep up with her. "But- all my classmates- say their parents- don't want them to- play with me," he explained. Sure, they were friendly at primary school and during recess, but when it came to after school, they always shifted awkwardly. "Something about- Aunt Chrissy's Bar."
Izumi's jaw and fists clenched, her eyes glaring ahead of them. "Doesn't she see that?" Izumi grumbled.
"Wh-what? Who doesn't see what?" Roy asked, skipping to catch up the few steps he'd fallen behind.
"Nothing. Do you really want to hang out with me? I'm just going to the library," she dismissed briskly.
The library? Roy's face broke into a bright smile as he caught at her forearm, jumping up and down. "The LIBRARY! You're going to study alchemy again, aren't you! Yes! Yes! YEAH!"
Izumi sighed, then chuckled softly, a smile creeping onto her lips. She moved her arm to wrap around his shoulders, pulling him against her side as she slowed to his pace. "Yeah. I want to study a bit of Flamel's work. It'll be a little dense for you, but we can probably find a book at your level."
"Will you show me some alchemy?" he begged.
"At the library? No, we'll get kicked out. Maybe on the way back, 'kay?"
Roy grinned, swinging his arms around her waist and squeezing her tightly in a hug. "Thanks, Zumi!"
Thursday, September 26, 1918
With Roy's insistence, Riza had put on her dress from yesterday, admitting it made sense, since she'd publicly promised to stay the night with him. There was no reason for her to have a change of clothes with her or at Roy's house, and it was still too early in the day for her to have run home to get a different outfit.
Before she'd put it on, he'd gently taken it from her, examining the popped stitches. A clap and a transmutation later, the thread was reconnected, leaving the dress whole again. At least she wouldn't have to go around with her bra showing now, though she suspected there was an element of selfishness to the gesture.
Her mind was running through a list of things to do today as she followed Roy into the hospital. First, schedule an appointment to get the master bedroom window fixed. Rebecca's idea about using alchemy to fix it was starting to sound more appealing by the moment. It was such a hassle to get it done the lame-man's way, and the guest bedroom wouldn't be available after Chris was discharged. Perhaps if they found replacement glass...? She'd bring it up with Roy after their visit with Chris.
Second was to run to her storage unit to scavenge for furniture and décor. She had a few bookshelves and an armchair she thought would work well and she wanted to pick up her mother's worn out copy of Ulden.
Then there was the idea to go to a furniture store and see what could be found. A kitchen table, a pair of couches, a few rugs, a coffee table.
And best to not forget forging a proper cover story and making sure Vanessa, Ms. Mustang, and possibly Madeline were all on the same page as them.
She wilted slightly, still tired after only a few hours of sleep. Though, she was fairly sure Roy hadn't slept at all and he seemed to be doing better when he was distracted from last night's events. The plan now was to run him ragged and hope he passed out when they finally settled down tonight.
"Perfect timing. She woke up about five minutes ago," Vanessa greeted them as they stepped into Chris's room, Riza's heels clicking softly on the tile floor.
Chris was still wearing the invasive mask over her nose and mouth. With the lights on, Riza could see the oxygen tank it was connected to, tucked against her headboard. Doctor Reynolds sat in the chair next to her, holding a stethoscope to the right side of her chest. Chris's eyes seemed heavy, like she was fighting sleep while she gave a few deep, slow breaths. Pulling the bell away from her chest, Reynolds warmly offered, "You sound better than when you got here. I'm sorry to tell you that you really shouldn't be smoking while you're recovering. My estimate is six to eight weeks minimum. Once you're well enough to be discharged, I'd like to see you once a week to make sure you're progressing."
"I can't do that. I have a business to run in Central," her voice was gratey and weak, her breath more shallow than it should be.
"I strongly advise against traveling that far during your recuperation time."
"Let me handle the other Bar, Chris. Madeline can assist with the one here or vice versa," Vanessa broke in, moving to the other side of Chris's bed.
Chris huffed, the sound mixing with a cough as she raised a hand to the mask over her mouth. She wheezed with the effort, Roy tensing next to Riza as they watched her struggle. She glanced sidelong at him, briefly brushing the back of his scared hand with her knuckles. He looked at her, his dark eyes wide with distress, leaving her desperate to offer him more comfort than she could in present company.
"Madame, you need to rest," Vanessa pressed as her coughing subsided. "You already let us run the Bar while you're out of town."
"Do you really see me lounging about doing nothing for six weeks? I live in these bars, girl."
"Live with me," Roy broke in. Attention shifted to him, Vanessa and Chris looking at him like he'd spouted gibberish. "Come live with me, Aunt Chrissy. You'll get away from the business of the Bar and the temptation of cigarettes and alcohol while you recover."
"That's ridiculous, Roy. Your work will leave me at home alone for most of the day," Chris barked.
Vanessa gently placed a hand on her arm, "What if you were at the Bar during the day and at Roy's in the evenings? That way you could still be involved, but you won't strain yourself by being there during the busiest times."
Roy nodded in agreement. "Unless there's an emergency, I've consistently been getting off at 1700 every evening. I could drop you off when I head to work and pick you up when I come home."
Chris hesitated, her eyes flicking briefly to Riza. "Dr. Reynolds, could you please give us a moment."
The Doctor stood, tucking a clipboard under her arm. "Of course. I'll have the nurse bring you some breakfast, Ms. Mustang. We can talk more after your visitors have left."
The door clicked shut behind her and Chris's expression grew more stubborn. "You two may be on board for this hairbrained idea..."
"But Madame..." Vanessa tried to interrupt.
Chris dismissively waved her down, "But what about Riza? Or did you both forget she was living with Roy?"
Riza's skin prickled as their attention turned towards her. "Roy brought this up with me last night. I have a friend I can stay with if needed as we were originally talking about having the girls come spend the day with you while we were at work."
"That'll work too!" Vanessa perked up. "At least until you feel up for the drive from his place to the Bar."
Chris's scowl deepened. "Riza, come here," she prompted, gesturing towards the chair Dr. Reynolds had been using.
Pushing past her instinctive hesitance, Riza crossed over, sitting stiffly beside her. Chris offered her hand, Riza's own twitching before she took it. Despite her age, her skin was smooth, her nails finely manicured with thin, white tips. Riza would never feel comfortable with nails like that, they'd break too easily while she was using and cleaning her guns.
Chris rubbed her knuckles, squeezing Riza's hand as her dark blue eyes held hers almost demandingly. "You're being very selfless. I'm giving you permission to be selfish. Taking care of an old woman like me won't be easy. I'm very aware of how valuable your alone time with Roy is and you've both waited a long time to have it."
"Is that your only objection, Madame?" Riza asked, keeping her voice collected. Chris didn't answer her, measuring her silently. "I'd like to help you. I owe you so much, Ms. Mustang. Because of you, both Roy and I were kept safe last night. Then there's the money you gave me after my father died and the support you gave after Roy was sent to the front. In a large part, I owe you for knowing Roy at all. For going with my grandfather's request to let Roy train with my- Berthold."
Riza dropped her gaze to their joined hands, settling on calling him by name spontaneously. It- felt right. She'd disassociated her father from Bethold Hawkeye at an emotional level over the months following her mother's murder. She'd come to the conclusion the night she'd woken up with her tattoo that her father was dead. When she'd accused him of murdering Elizabeth Hawkeye, the following beating had been too violent to remember the details, blacked out patches in her memory she intended to keep that way.
"I may not be some decrepit granny at the end of her life, but I have lived longer than both of you. If my self sacrifice can keep you alive, I'm glad to make it," Chris explained quietly. "If I could have done the same for James and Sying..."
Riza lifted her eyes as a warm hand found her shoulder, catching a whiff of Roy's scent as he gripped her tightly for support. "Don't even go there," Roy's voice was harsh and strained. "Don't bring them up. It's hard enough thinking about you being shot."
Chris looked troubled, her wrinkles deepening with her frown. "Alright, Roy-boy. Alright. For now, I'm more concerned about what you plan to do with Annette. She wouldn't have confronted you unless she had sufficient evidence to bury you for this."
Riza dropped her gaze to her joined hand with Chris, "Annette's dead."
A silence permeated the room for a long moment before Chris simply stated, "Good riddance." Turning her attention to Vanessa, she continued, "If you can search her things without the Military Investigators knowing, do. I want to find her evidence and burn it."
"Madeline managed to already, it wasn't there."
"Our men found it," Roy interjected, his grip loosening on Riza's shoulder. "Havoc and Catalina are privy to our relationship, and they got it to us safely."
"So, who knows? About you two. Is there anyone else?" Vanessa asked, sitting down on the other side of Chris's bed.
"Sheska and Armstrong," Riza supplied.
"We told Armstrong this morning. He's going to help run interference with the investigation."
Vanessa gave a disgusted "Egh," at the word 'investigation'.
"So, what's the story?" Chris asked, "I'll certainly be questioned when I'm well enough."
"Simple- we stay as close to the truth as possible. With Annette's history of stalking Roy, we only have to lie about why I was injured."
"Wait, you were injured?" Chris tried sitting up, the color draining from her face instantly as Vanessa jumped forward, urging her shoulders back to the pillows.
Roy stepped around Riza hastily, "Chrissy! You need to stay down," he scolded harshly, brushing Chris's hair back onto the pillow.
Chris's grip tightened on Riza's hand, her breathing labored as color slowly returned to her cheeks. "Oh- I wasn't- expecting that."
"Shhh, it's alright. Just relax," Vanessa urged, fussing over Chris's shirt uselessly.
Riza shifted her eyes to Roy, his own expression ashened as he stilled his hand on the crown of her head. With her free hand, Riza grabbed his arm, squeezing both Chris and Roy reassuringly.
"How- how did you get injured?" Chris asked, her breath returning to its raspy, but steady pace.
The tension in the room lapsed, Vanessa pulling back from her fussing. "It was my fault. I stepped on her foot with my high heel," Vanessa admitted, looking guilty. "I'm sorry about that, by the way. You had every chance to hurt me and you didn't. Thank you."
Stiffening slightly, Riza replied, "Hurting you wasn't the point. Getting to Roy was."
Desperation entered Vanessa's eyes as she turned to look at Roy, leaning in. "I can't do it again. I won't. If you'd seen how desperate she was to get to you, to help you..."
"I won't ask you to," Roy cut her off. "It was wrong of me to ask it in the first place. Riza has better instincts than I do and I'm letting her dictate future encounters- though hopefully said 'encounters' won't happen again.
"Along those lines, Madame, I can't keep using your information network. It's wrong of me to even pretend to flirt with others and I won't keep doing it. You raised me to be a gentleman and such behavior is the opposite of that."
Chris smirked, tilting her head back as she stared up at the ceiling. "Good. I was worried I'd have to bring that up myself. You deserve a candy, boy." Roy's eyes widened, his cheeks turning crimson. Vanessa giggled in delight at the sight, covering her mouth with her hand.
Riza quietly pulled her hand from Chris's, taking Roy's instead with both of hers. Her touch drew his eyes as she gave him a gentle smile, "Thank you."
His eyes softened with her words, his hand squeezing hers.
"That doesn't mean you can't keep using my network, though. You just get to act like the devoted son you already are. Here's your story: after a sobering three years in Ishval where you dedicated yourself to the people, you returned to East City to find you had no more interest in messing around. This shit with Annette can be the nail in the coffin. Scorned former lover tried killing you and your aunt, so you swore off leaving more broken hearts!" Chris chuckled with her own dramatic tone, relaxing into the bed more. "I can even arrange for a gossip column in two or so weeks."
"That might just make some women try harder- and maybe make the men think they have a chance," Vanessa warned.
Roy scoffed, shaking his head as he moved behind Riza, hugging her over her shoulders, his hands casually clasped over her breasts. "Please don't do anything that will get men openly flirting with me. It's awkward enough dealing with all of the desperate women."
Though he didn't intentionally grope her, the brush of his hands against her breasts suddenly made her very aware of them aching. She let her brow furrow as she grabbed his hands, gently guiding them to her shoulders instead. "Please don't, my breasts are tender," she murmured.
Chris snorted with a suppressed chuckle, the effort making her cough. Vanessa instantly grew more alert, spine straightening. "Oh, sorry," Roy murmured, rubbing her shoulders warmly.
Riza quickly measured Vanessa's intensity, purposely relaxing her shoulders as she tried, "Of all nights, my period decided to make an appearance last night. You ladies wouldn't happen to know of any home remedies for soreness, would you?"
"Aspirin," Chris shrugged with an apologetic smile, her eyes watering as she regained control of her breaths.
Vanessa relaxed slightly, Riza's words having been more informative than Chris likely suspected. "I like massaging them in the shower. Get them extra soapy and go from the center out. Roy can probably help you with that," she added with a smirk.
Riza's cheeks and neck heated with the suggestion, squeezing her legs together uncomfortably. Roy's grip on her shoulders stiffened as he scolded, "Nessie!"
"Ice can help too. And use more practical bras, but I don't think that's a problem for you," Chris continued more seriously. "Besides that, you'll just have to wait it out."
A knock came at the door, Roy's hands pulling away instantly from her shoulders. As a chill replaced his warmth, a cheery nurse opened the door, rolling an overbed table with Chris's breakfast into the room. "Good morning, Ms. Mustang!"
"Ah, this will be good for you, Madame," Vanessa chirped, sitting up with a gleam in her eyes.
"Perhaps we should get going. We have a lot to do in order to get the General's house ready for your stay," Riza offered, standing up to move the chair out of the way of Chris's breakfast.
Chris's dark blue eyes narrowed, an intelligent glint behind them. "If you're sure about this, then I suppose I'll just have to thank you." Her gaze didn't leave Riza, but her words left it open to Roy as well.
Roy took the initiative, "Well, you took me in. I've always wanted to return the favor. I'll be back this evening and we can talk some more after you've gotten more rest."
Chris nodded, glancing at the plate the nurse rolled before her. "Vanessa, bring Madeline for that. We'll figure out the bars and my- care schedule," she cringed.
Roy nodded, "1900, then."
"Amestrian, Roy," Chris chided.
Riza smirked as she led the way to the door, holding it for Roy. "That would be seven pm, Madame," he smiled weakly, not looking back. Riza closed the door carefully behind them, Roy slipping his hands into his pockets as he paused for her.
"She seems well," Riza offered gently, falling in behind and to his left as per usual.
"She'll be alright," he whispered.
The water thundered on the porcelain of the tub, droplets clinging to her skin as she stepped out of the direct stream after washing. She whimpered slightly as she lathered her breasts again, more thoroughly than before. The erected nubs of her nipples hurt worst, though everything ached, really.
It had been a long day and they'd just barely gotten home from the hospital. Cover story and bar business matters now figured out, along with furniture ordered and scheduled for delivery over the next two days, Riza was finally given the opportunity to take care of herself. Despite Vanessa's teasing, she'd been longing for the chance to see if her suggestion would help.
It was unfair. Her reaction to Roy's shrimp and yesterday's hunger had only been replaced by cramping and tenderness. "Damn you," she grumbled, looking down at her chest.
"Whoa, shots fired. If you don't want me in here, just close the door."
Roy's voice was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one. They'd decided to buy some clear glass plates at one of the furniture stories and he'd been 'patching' the bedroom window with them through alchemy.
"Not you, my body," she sighed, leaving the soap back on its shelf. Leaning her shoulder against the tile wall, she began rubbing her breasts in a delicate, circular motion.
He grabbed the shower curtain, poking his head in. Looking over her shoulder, she met his gaze as his obsidian eyes devoured the sight of her nakedness, loitering on the curve of her hips. "Don't say that, I like your body."
She snorted, "Well, it doesn't like me. Did you get the window fixed?"
He pulled back, vanishing from sight. "Yep. Catalina will be glad to know she only owes me 1100 cenz."
"I'm surprised you're letting her off so easily," Riza smiled. Her ears pricked with the sound of a drawer closing on the other side of the curtain. "What are you doing? You're not shaving again, are you?"
He chuckled lowly, a shifting of fabric followed the sound before he pulled the curtain open enough to step in, his clothes gone. She paused at the sight of his muscular figure, her eyes instinctively dipping down to his abs and the v leading to his groin. Her cheeks grew numb and her neck and ears burned as she quickly looked away, turning her attention back to her breasts and realizing the water had mostly washed away the soap.
"You sound like you'd be upset if I did. Have you decided a preference after all?" he teased, leaving something on the little soap shelf before stepping up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist.
She twisted to meet his eyes, leaning her numb shoulder blade against the tile. "Alright, since you keep bringing it up, I'll articulate how I feel about your facial hair," she announced, keeping her voice businesslike.
"Mmm? Do tell," he lilted, his fingers moving to her hip and kneading the skin there absently.
"Over the twenty years we've known each other, you've kept mostly clean shaven," she removed a hand from her aching nipple and brushed his prickly jaw with her finger tips. "Most of the time, when I close my eyes and imagine you, that's how I see you. Striking, handsome, clean, studious, and commanding."
"All very flattering descriptions," he nodded, playfully sage about her words.
"But your facial hair," she started lightly, daring to drop to a more sultry tone as she continued, "adds a maturity to your face. Suddenly, you're not just handsome, you're rugged and sexy."
His eyes darkened imperceptibly with hunger, her heart skipping faster as he stepped closer, shifting in front of her. "Oh?"
"I don't know if it had to do with those first kisses in the hallway our first night here, but now when I fantasize about you, I imagine you're stubble against my skin. It- it makes me wet," she admitted, a tightness growing between her legs.
One of his hands slid across her rear to the other hip before caressing her sides, moving his touch up to her waist and squeezing her gently. He dipped in, his warm breath loitering on her cheek as he lightly brushed her face with his prickly jaw. She caught a hold of his muscular biceps, breath growing shallow as his mouth dusted her ear. "Like that?" he breathed.
She nodded softly, not trusting her throat to form the words properly. He inhaled heavily against her ear before he ducked his head down, dragging his stubble against her skin intentionally as he began kissing and nipping at her neck. She tilted her head back, giving him more access as a moan rose up out of her lungs, her fingers digging into his muscles greedily.
His mouth moved from under her ear, peppering kisses all the way to her throat. He slid his teeth slowly across her skin before swirling his tongue soothing across the same area, then dipping down to bite her collarbone.
Her body twitched involuntarily, her knees separating as arousal gushed from her core. Her already erected nipples seemed to harden more, the accompanying pain making her whimper softly.
He stepped closer, his mouth shifting to her scar as his erection bumped lightly against her open thigh. Her lips parted, quivering in the humid air as his hands began venturing in different directions. One drifted below her navel, stroking just above her pelvis as the other wrapped behind her back, following her spine up, up, up until he brushed across scar tissue.
His mouth pulled back as he deliberately rubbed their jaws against each other, the pleasant scratch making her tense as his mouth coupled with hers, his tongue easily probing between her already open lips. She met him cautiously as her mouth salivated, her mind absently returning to the trail of saliva that had connected their lips yesterday. No trace of embarrassment flooded her now as she deepened the kiss, sucking lightly as their tongues swirled.
He shifted, pressing his hips against hers and guiding her flush with the wall. The excitement of feeling his cock against her pelvis was diminished by the discomfort of his pectorals pressing lightly against her breasts. She slid her hands to his shoulders as she broke the kiss. "Roy, no. I hurt too much."
He pulled his face and torso back, meeting her gaze with a flash of concern. "I didn't try to touch your breasts, I was actually trying to avoid them," he promised.
She sighed, her healed foot aching again with the awkward angle she'd subconsciously moved it into. "Thank you, but I'm not up for something quite as adventurous as this. Besides, I'm bleeding. If we keep this up..."
"Stop right there," he cut in, lifting a finger to her lips, silencing her. "Between my aunt raising me and how long it took for us to happen, do you think a little bit of blood will chase me away? Now being in pain is one thing, but I'm not going to let your period be an excuse. Alright?"
She squirmed as he pulled completely away, stepping under the water and digging a hand through his hair as it soaked through. "Will you pass me the soap?" he asked.
Peeling her skin away from the tile, she reached for the bar, surprised to find a condom tucked behind it. Raising an eyebrow, she picked it up instead, looking back at him with a questioning stare.
He glanced at the package, "What?"
"That big speech about being okay with period sex and you still want to use a condom?"
He reached forward, grabbing the soap as he quickly began lathering himself. "I don't know what the problem is. Protection is always important- unless you're already pregnant, I guess," he added with a shrug.
"But- it's safe during periods. It's not like I can get pregnant right now."
Roy paused, meeting her eyes as the water kept drumming on his skin and the porcelain. "Yes- yes you can."
"...I can?"
"Very much so. You didn't know that?"
Face heating, she climbed out of the shower and snatched a towel from the rack. "Not everyone grew up in a brothel, Roy," she murmured, tossing the condom on the counter.
A very upset, subconscious part of her mind made its way to the surface. The only reason she'd even considered sex during her period before was to go without a condom- and she'd been wrong.
"That's a pretty important thing to know, Love. Who told you that it was safe?"
Grunting incoherently, she dried off her legs, grabbing a sanitary pad from a drawer. "My sex education came from Ms. Kent. Her lesson covered periods and how to take care of my body during them, and that's all. Everything else I learned from hearsay- in the Military."
"Ah..." his voice echoed from the shower and he didn't say more. Sighing, she bent over, gathering her wet hair in the towel and wrapping it up.
"I'll be in bed," she informed, stepping out of the open bathroom door. Moving into the guest room, she snatched a pair of underwear and her robe. Dressing quickly, she crumpled up the napkin's empty wrapper, musing slightly over whether she should try those new 'tampax' things now that she wasn't a virgin. Rebecca used them- at least she thought so. She should ask about them.
Dismissing the train of thought, she moved to the more comfortable master bedroom as she tied her robe closed. The air was a little chilly still and the lack of Hayate made her frown. In his place at the foot of the bed was the discarded paper used to protect the plates they'd gotten for the window.
She wanted her dog back. At least Roy was scheduled for an interview concerning Wednesday night's incident tomorrow. She could ask for him back while they were at Headquarters.
Shivering between her damp skin and the chill, she snatched up the mess from across the bed, crumpling the papers all together before tossing them in the bin. She was quick to hide under the covers, getting settled with her back reclined against the pillows.
Roy came in, naked as he shook his hair with his towel. "Fuck, it's cold," he complained as he uncovered his head. "Is it September or January?"
"September," she informed, grabbing the book she'd left on the nightstand, caressing the worn hardback as she delicately opened its pages. It was more of a comfort method as she had no expectation she'd be able to concentrate on reading with Roy in her bed. She watched, amused as he grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser.
"With Chris staying for two months we'll need to move all your things over," Roy pointed out, stepping into the waistband.
Riza's smile quirked into a smirk, hiding behind her book so he wouldn't catch her in the act of staring. "Ah, so the mastermind has revealed his end game."
"Hey! I'm just being practical," he denied, his towel thumping as it landed on her legs.
She giggled, "It's a good excuse, but you've been trying to have my things moved in here since day one."
"That's not why I'm bringing it up!" Roy protested, the springs creaking as he climbed up the foot of the bed and over her legs. His finger hooked over the top of the worn pages and gently pulled the book down.
"Not my mother's book," she protested, carefully pulling it from him and closing it in her lap. She moved it back to the nightstand, fidgeting with it as a frown furrowed her brow.
"Hey, I won't hurt your mother's book," he promised gently, still crouched over her.
She exhaled, letting her shoulders relax. "I know," she murmured, meeting his midnight eyes, gleaming with the desire to console her. "I suppose you're right. Aren't you going to wear more clothes? You were complaining about how chilly it was."
He glanced down at his naked chest, "See, when you have hypothermia, you're supposed to take all of your clothes off," he smirked, "and find a cuddle buddy." He reached forward, tugging her robe off of her right shoulder.
The tightness returned between her legs. Giving a halfhearted scowl, she rolled her eyes, crossing her legs dismissively. "I don't think you or I have hypothermia, Sir."
"Ouch. Now I do," he teased, climbing off of her and digging his way under the sheets. "So, I didn't get a conclusion from you. It sounds like you prefer the scruff?" he prompted, rubbing his jaw with a distinct scratching sound.
Exaggerating her sigh, she reached over, caressing his cheek. "I don't care. Do whatever you prefer. Based on how fast it grew back yesterday, I'll be satisfied with the growth by the time we go to bed every night."
He hummed, looking troubled. "Satisfied doesn't mean you'll love it, though."
Reaching over to her nightstand, she pulled the drawer open, taking out the two manila envelopes she'd hidden inside. "You can grow it out on the weekends if you're so worried about me 'loving it'," she shrugged, scooting against him and deliberately placing the envelopes between their laps.
Roy sobered at the sight, his brow furrowing. "I need to know," she whispered, playing with the corner of one.
"You're not going to like it," he warned, meeting her gaze.
"I know."
He exhaled, reaching over to grab his glasses from his nightstand, putting them on. Under the sheets, she rested a hand on his thigh, his skin warm as she snuggled up beside him, resting her head on his bare shoulder.
He picked up the thicker envelope, his frame tense as he opened the tab. "I have no idea how many Havoc or Catalina saw," he prefaced, skimming through the edges of the pictures with a critical eye. He stuck his thumb in the middle, a little less than halfway through the stack, "Armstrong saw these."
She nodded, squeezing his leg gently. He exhaled heavily, placing the first one down between them. She eyed it, the picture taken from down the street as she'd rushed down the porch stairs with Hayate on a leash, waving to Becca in the car. A thin script in the bottom right corner gave the date.
Roy placed another on top of it, this time she was leading Hayate back inside. The following photo made it clear she had a key to the house as she unlocked the door.
It was eerie, seeing all the pictures of herself coming and going. The next one was different, taken somewhere in the neighborhood as Roy walked Hayate down the street. A picture of Riza climbing into Roy's car was followed by a cute depiction of her and Roy huddled under an umbrella, Hayate leading them on a walk.
The next photo made her skin crawl. Roy had her pinned against the wall, his hand venturing up under her turtleneck and across her abdomen. His lips were millimeters from hers and they both had grins, depicted in the sepia. It was clearly taken through slats in the blinds, the mantle next to them resurfacing the memory in more detail. They'd kissed there, her skin warmed by the fire in the grate before Roy had gently guided her by the hand to their bed upstairs.
She grabbed his wrist as he moved to place another picture, her mind reeling. "Roy- we've had sex..."
"Yeah," he whispered.
"Is there...?"
"Yes."
She met his eyes, dark and worried. "Show me."
He thumbed through a few pictures, placing another on the pile. She barely glimpsed it before her hand slapped down, covering the nudity. It had been a long day at work and he'd practically tackled her the moment they'd both gotten home. Both of them were pantsless, her thighs wrapped around his waist as she peeled his dress shirt off, Roy holding her to the wall and nibbling at her ear.
"There are worse one's, aren't there," it wasn't a question. He nodded silently. She slowly took her hand from the picture, cheeks heating as she realized two or three members of the Team had seen this and Annette had taken the damn thing.
She couldn't focus on that. Not right now. Not emotionally. Exhaling, she settled into a more serious mindset. It was evidence. Evidence to damn Annette's crimes, not theirs. A thought hit her and a smirk touched her lips. "That's a nice butt you've got there, Sir."
There was a pause before he started shaking. Looking up at him, she recognized the pure mirth in his eyes as he moved a hand to cover his mouth, snickers escaping him in suppressed spurts.
"You know- sometimes- you're definitely- Grumman's granddaughter," he struggled to voice through his laughter.
She smiled weakly, squeezing his leg under the covers. "Keep going or we'll be here all night."
He dropped his hand, letting himself openly laugh. "Oh! Let's turn this into a game. Come on, my turn," he dug out another picture, Roy topless as he held her from behind, one of his hands clearly deep between her legs, her belt and fly loose to allow him access. "Shit, I sort of want to hold onto these. Seeing that look on your face..."
She glanced at his lap, cheeks heating as she saw the tented blankets. "Roy! That is not where I was going with this."
"What? I'm just being honest. I was behind your hair when this happened. I couldn't see that," he gestured to the rather embarrassing expression of unrestrained pleasure on her face.
Ears burning, she grabbed the top photo in his hand, sliding it loose. "We are not holding onto these. Next," she dismissed, smacking it on top of the viewing pile.
She froze, the heat leaving her body in a single exhale. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, kissing him with one hand tangled in his hair, the other holding his forearm as he was clearly touching her crotch. Likewise, his hand was scrunched up in her hair, pulling most of her golden locks out of the way, leaving her naked back in plain view of the camera. The scars and ink were clear in the sepia, making her stomach drop uncomfortably.
"You're beautiful," he whispered. Setting the stack aside, he slid his fingers under the draping sleeve of her robe, caressing her still inked right shoulder blade. "I know you might not see it, but I do."
"Roy..." she breathed, shaking her head weakly.
His arms moved around her hips as he pulled her easily into his lap. She didn't fight him, ducking her head as he tugged her other sleeve down, her robe falling to her waist, clinging on at her elbows. His delicate touch slid up both sides of her back, his warm breath caressing her neck.
"How do I make you see it? Beyond the array, beyond the scars... I'll admit I struggle with it, but you seem haunted. Do you- hate your body?" he questioned weakly, his voice betraying pain at the concept. He delicately pulled the towel from her hair, the half dried locks falling over her shoulders.
"I- I don't hate myself. For what I've done as a soldier, maybe, but not because of this," she ran her fingers along the edge of the picture, letting her brows crease.
He gently brushed through her hair, his free hand massaging circles into her inked skin. "Help me understand," he breathed, placing a kiss on her spine.
Lifting her head, she stared at the closed curtains, only half seeing them as she tried to put words to it. He grazed kisses along her skin, his hands both moving to massage her back as she considered.
"Do you remember my father's last words?"
His face pulled back from another kiss, softly murmuring, "'Look after her.'"
A weak, humorless chuckle left her throat. "That's what I heard at first too. 'Look after my daughter. She's in possession of my research. Look after her.'
"I'm certain you were at a few soldiers' sides when they died during the War. If they had time to utter last words, it was about the pain, or they'd say how they loved their mother or girlfriend or brother.
"But Father? No. His last thoughts were about his precious research. About keeping it safe. And after all he did to me, I shouldn't have expected anything else. Maybe words for Mother, but nothing more. It just hurts to know I wasn't important to him, yet I literally cannot be rid of him."
She paused, enjoying his gentle ministrations to her skin, kisses still mixed in with his massage. "I think right now I'm mainly upset about Annette taking these, not about the tattoo. I'm uneasy that another Alchemist has now seen them, even though I trust Armstrong explicitly. And- I'm afraid Rebecca has seen it too."
"Catalina?" he sounded surprised. "You..."
"She knows I have a scar. We were bunk mates at the Academy, after all. I was always really careful to keep it from her, though. She probably thought I got it in the War.
"But now... the implication of the tattoo with it..." she sighed heavily, leaning back against him. The action interrupted his ministrations, making him shift to wrap his arms around her instead as she settled against his chest. "She's going to get mad. Sheska's immediate thought was that you'd given me the tattoo and burned it. I expect Rebecca's mind will follow the same vein."
"I can take it," he squeezed her abdomen, his warm breath against her ear. "She can be mad at me all she wants."
"She's going to be mad at me too. 'How could you be with someone who literally burned you?' Or something like that.
"And- I just hate thinking about it, and explaining it. I just want to leave it behind, but I can't. It's just a reminder that I was little more than paper to him." She curled up slightly, not eager to face her next conversation with Rebecca.
He gently brushed his fingers through her hair again, nuzzling against the crook of her neck. "But you are more to me," he breathed. "So much more. My desire for you isn't even really physical, though I really enjoy being intimate. No, it's almost spiritual. I love you so much that the words don't even mean enough."
A gentle flame grew in her chest with his quiet declarations, every inch of their touching skin seeping even more warmth into her being. Sighing, she cuddled up to him, this time turning to her right, pressing her tattoo intentionally against his heart. "I know. That's why I let you have it."
"It? Have what? Flame Alchemy?" he lifted his head, his face inches away. His charcoal eyes met hers- worried.
"Flame Alchemy, yes. But also my devotion. My trust. My body. My- heart."
His worry melted away, affection replacing it. "Thank you," he whispered, his tone clearly revenant.
She lifted a hand to his jaw, her heart beginning to race as she parted her lips. His eyes glanced down at the motion, the thought of kissing invading her intention.
"Roy- you understand I feel the same way, right?"
He brushed a hand along her cheek, moving closer. "Of course I do," he breathed before his lips pressed warmly against hers.
Her chest tightened, mentally cursing herself for not just coming out and saying it. It was just three words. He pulled back, dark eyes concerned. "What's wrong?"
Squirming uncomfortably, she dropped her eyes. "I need to say it. I feel like I'm a coward for not doing so yet."
He caressed her sides tenderly, the feeling sending butterflies into her stomach. "Baby steps, Ri. You were pretty close to saying it twice just now. Don't try to diminish how much that means to me."
She nodded mutely. He gave a strained smile, brushing her cheek lightly before pulling her further into his arms, moving to the pictures again. "Now, where were we?"
"I think I've seen enough," she decided, extracting her robe from around her waist, tossing it off the bed with their two towels. "I'd like to try to sleep." He didn't react, all the photos now collected as he stared at the top one. "Roy?"
"Do you think you'll want to see them later?"
She paused, considering. "No- maybe. I get the general idea."
"I think I'm going to go through all of them. If there's anything I feel is important, I'll let you know. If not, I'll burn them when I'm done."
Sighing, she rested her head on his shoulder, still in his lap as one of his arms was wrapped around her waist possessively. She reached out for the stack in his hand, taking it from him. "You need to sleep."
He was quiet for a long moment, eyes reluctantly meeting her gaze, his glasses almost becoming a barrier. "I don't think I can."
"I need you to try," she pressed, reaching up and pulling the frames from his face.
His cheek twitched with that, his jaw tightening. He opened his mouth, inhaling slowly, "I expect I'll have nightmares. I don't want to wake you up."
She bent over, tossing his glasses onto his nightstand carefully and dropping the stack of photos to the floor. The heavy material of the photo paper made them land with a thump, her back staring up at her. "Wake me up, Roy. That's why I'm here," she reassured, adjusting in his lap and wrapping her arms around his waist. She pointlessly tugged at him, trying to get him to join her in laying down but lacking the leverage to get him to move.
He sighed, "Don't you want more lights off?"
"You'll do better with them on," she reassured gently, giving him a weak smile.
He sighed again, wrapping both arms around her and guiding her to her side of the bed, laying down with her. He slipped an arm under her neck to act as a pillow, the other around her waist pulling her flush with his chest. She flinched as her breasts squished between them, reluctantly pulling back to give her body space.
"Are you okay?" he breathed, watching her as she tenderly rubbed her breasts.
"I'm fine. I just usually don't have this during my periods. It's probably happening because of all the sex."
"Maybe... I'm not apologizing for that, though," he smirked, a twinkle lighting his eyes.
She smiled back, a fuzzy warmth nestling in her chest at the sight. "I wouldn't accept such an apology anyways. Now, promise me you'll wake me up if you have a nightmare."
His smirk vanished, expression darkening with unpleasant thoughts. "You're really going to wish you hadn't asked for that."
"Promise."
"Fine. If it wakes me up, I'll wake you." She nodded with his words, relaxing more in his arms. His focus left her face, his arm curling under her head as his hand began running through her damp locks. She could practically see the troubling thoughts brooding behind his eyes as he stroked her hair.
She reached forward, caressing his clavicle. "What is it?" she whispered. He didn't answer, his touch still soft and smooth. "Is it Hughes?"
He blinked, a slight sound of surprise at the back of his throat as he met her eyes again. "How did you...?"
"It was a guess," she shook her head slightly. "I figured it wasn't the Promised Day, because you weren't staring at my neck. And- it wasn't burning my back, because you would have been touching it instead of my hair. It could have been Chris, or your parents, but- that was the look you had in your eyes the months following the Brigadier General's death."
He relaxed, sighing as he settled into his pillow more. "I guess we do know each other that well, don't we?"
Her fingers softly traveled to his neck, absently finding his pulse, her thumb gently resting on his Adam's apple. "Gracia told me she was interested in trying to date again. She wants to fill a void in her life, but- she doesn't think she can just replace him. She talked about support and someone who knew him. It didn't sound like she was interested in you, though."
He hummed absently, his Adam's apple vibrating under her thumb as his hand stilled in her hair. "Knowing Hughes, he probably told her I was enamored with you. Wait..." he propped himself up slightly, looking down at her, "Can we...?"
"Tell her? I told Rebecca. I see no reason not to tell Gracia- but Elicia cannot know."
He gave a weak chuckle, pressing his forehead against hers. She closed her eyes, reveling in his scent and warmth as his breath rushed over her skin. "I'd like that. It'd be like telling Hughes- or the closest thing too. He'd be so happy."
Something hot and wet fell onto her cheek. She gasped softly, eyes fluttering open as he pulled his face back, sniffing. He rubbed his nose, laying back down on his back as he stared up at the ceiling. "Do you think she's still in town?"
She brushed his tear from her skin, staring at the liquid on her fingers. Turning back to him, she scooted closer, nestling herself under his arm and looking up as well. "I don't know. With how hard Elicia took it, I would expect they went home as soon as possible."
He grew quiet, the following silence thick and the air cool. She pulled the blankets up more, covering their naked skin as she huddled against him. "We'll find a time. For now, it's something to look forward to," she reassured.
His lack of response made her look up. His eyes were closed, the tension gone from his face. Noting the slow, deep breaths of his chest, she relaxed, watching him. "Good, get some sleep- my King." His continued dozing made her chest swell. Lips parting, her tongue grew heavy as she inhaled, barely daring to breathe the words she'd failed to say earlier: "I love you."