A/N: Prompt two: Fake Dating
Tonight
Not Wanda, Elenor, or Jacqualine.
Roy pulled on his dinner jacket, smoothing the crisp, black cashmere against his gray vest.
Not Ida, Josephine, or Diane.
With a smooth pull of his fine-toothed comb, he greased back his ever rebellious hair, knowing full well that in twenty minutes a few strands would escape the carefully crafted style.
Not Margaret, Alice, or Lucy.
With a spritz of cologne and a breath mint, he was out the door. He couldn't be late. Not tonight.
Not when his date was with Elizabeth.
He dated, he doted, he flirted, and schmoozed as many single women as he could just so he could steal one night every month to be with her. A taste of wine, a gentle kiss, and if she felt daring enough...
No need to focus on that. Besides, it had been a few months since she'd agreed to accompany him home. That was just part of their agreement. No expectations. No unnecessary risks.
No titles.
The street lights flooded through the windshield, briefly illuminating the cab with yellow light as he drove to her apartment. Parking at the curb, he smoothly climbed out, snapping the door closed before making his way inside, absently tugging the hem of his suit coat to make sure it lay flat.
In the lobby, he waited for the lift, a clock on the wall filling the silence with a soft tic tic. He glanced over, eyeing the hands. He was cutting it close, but he should make it on time.
The elevator dinged, the door sliding open. He smoothly stepped in, hitting the button for her floor. His stomach jolted as he began ascending. One. Two. Three. The lift chimed as it reached the fourth floor, the door sliding open once again.
He stepped out, one of the lights in the hall flickering as he made a beeline for her apartment. He stopped on the doormat, exhaling his anxiety before he rapped firmly on her door.
He was met with silence, the absence making his brow furrow. Something was wrong. Hayate usually barked when he knocked.
Reaching into his pocket, he was prepared to pull out his ignition glove until the door opened, Riza appearing on the other side. He relaxed at the sight of her, only to tense as he realized she wasn't dressed up as Elizabeth.
Instead of a brown wig and her usual formal dress, she wore a loose lavender sweater and a pair of jeans with her golden hair hanging loosely over her shoulders.
Blinking, he mentally reeled, trying to figure out where the disconnect was. "Am I a day early?" he asked before she'd even had the chance to greet him.
Her lips were parted to give said greeting, but with his words, she hesitated. "No, Sir. I merely..." she cut herself off, scowling. "No, Roy. It's tonight," she corrected firmly.
Ah, so it wasn't an error on his part. "Oh. Good," he murmured, shifting awkwardly. "Did- something come up?"
She'd once canceled at the last minute, giving him a coded message over the phone not to come. Had he missed her attempts to reach him?
"Come in?" she asked, holding the door wider for him.
Uncertain, he accepted her invitation, stepping past her as she closed the door behind him with a soft click. "I thought we could stay in tonight," she broached, turning to face him as the warm smell of cooking reached him.
"Oh," he breathed, relaxing a bit, his eyes dropping to her sweater and the way it dangled off her shoulder, giving him a glimpse of her black bra strap. "If I'd known that, I would have dressed more comfortably."
A smile tugged at her lips, which he only now noticed were a gentle red from her preferred lipstick. She stepped closer, casually running a hand down his vest as she checked him out, a hint of approval behind her eyes. "I don't mind. You look very handsome, Roy."
A swell of pride blossomed in his chest with her praise as she stepped past him, her hand loitering on his chest until she was out of reach. His eyes were glued to her as she moved, her hips swaying invitingly in her curve hugging jeans. "Of course, I won't complain if you want to get more comfortable. I need to check the steak, though. I don't want it to overcook."
"Now that would be a shame," he commented, gravitating after her as he pulled off his suit coat and loosened his tie. They entered the dining room, Riza rounding the table to get to the adjoining kitchen. Hanging his jacket over a chair's back, he paused, attention drawn to the white tablecloth and candle lit set up. A bottle of wine stood at the center, waiting to be opened.
"Riza," he called, following after her while he worked at rolling up his sleeves, tucking in the cuffs. As he reached the kitchen, he found her with the oven open and a meat thermometer stuck into a filet mignon. She hummed in acknowledgement, pulling the pan out of the oven properly and setting it on the stove top before pulling another dish out, Roy catching a glimpse of cheesy scalloped potatoes. "I thought these nights were for me to spoil you," he challenged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the counter, "not for you to work extra hard. You already do plenty of that at work."
"And I thought we agreed not to mention work on our dates," she countered, closing the oven and turning it off.
"Still, this is supposed to be my treat for you."
"Can't I do something nice for you once in a while?" she asked, pulling out a pair of plates as she began serving their food. "Besides, the fake dating- it gets old. Here we can be real with each other. No Elizabeth or disguises or reputations."
He grew quiet, watching her as she added some green beans from a skillet to both of their plates. "Alright," he murmured softly.
She turned, offering him a plate with a soft smile. "That's all I ask. You can spoil me again next month."
Returning her smile, he took the plate from her and they moved back to the table. Setting his plate down, he glanced around, confirming his suspicions. "Where's Hayate?" he asked as he pulled out her chair, helping her get settled in her seat.
"I found him a sitter," she dismissed, reaching for the wine.
"I'll do that," he offered, picking it up before she could. She shot him a look, not challenging or offended, but almost amused as he picked up the corkscrew, twisting it into the cork.
Her eyes dropped from his face to the bottle, her gaze roving slightly as he pulled the cork out with a satisfying pop, a trail of vapor escaping the bottle. It took him a moment to realize she was watching his now exposed forearm.
Resisting a smirk, he began pouring the rich red liquid into her glass. "Didn't want him begging?" he teased, drawing her attention again.
She met his eyes, a spark to her whiskey irises. "I only want one man vying for my attention tonight."
"And you chose me? I'm honored," he simpered, setting the bottle down before he sat across from her.
"Did you expect anything different? I only get this once a month."
"We could always renegotiate the frequency of our dates, Riza. I'm open to seeing you more."
Her expression fell, a furrow crossing her brow. "You know that's unwise."
That was her answer every time the topic came up, and he knew she was right. With all their precautions, and all their deception, one night a month was still more frequent than she had originally wanted to agree to, and he'd rather this than not at all.
So he lifted his glass, unwavering as he held her gaze. "Then, to tonight."
She raised her own glass, gently tapping it with his. "Tonight," she echoed softly.
They both drank, and slipped into more pleasant conversation as they ate. It had been a while since he'd tasted her cooking, and as always, it was impeccable. Warmed by food and wine and desirable company, they loitered at the table, sharing stories of their friends and reminiscing over the pleasant parts of their past.
Riza was right, the fake dating did get old. As they talked he became aware that their dates of late had been filled with the same false, surface level conversations he had with all of the women he took out. After all, Roy and Elizabeth didn't share as much history, and it wouldn't make sense for a playboy to show so much favoritism in public.
Here, alone, they could be themselves. Riza and Roy: long time friends and occasional lovers.
As the candles burned low and the wine ran out, an intoxicating pull filled the air. Riza's eyes were heavy, her hand reaching out for his as the conversation lapsed. He took it, stroking her knuckles as he held her gaze. "Thank you for dinner," he murmured, his voice low.
"Stay for dessert?" she implored, a need in her eyes that he hadn't seen in quite some time, making it clear she wasn't talking about cake.
"If you'd like," he rumbled, his eyes dropping to her lips as they curved into a warm smile.
Pulling her hand away, she stood up, Roy standing with her as she rounded the table. Taking his hand in passing, she smiled back at him, gently tugging him along to her room.
Once inside, she turned back towards him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she stepped closer. He glided one of his hands around her hips, pulling her against him as he leaned in, meeting her lips in an open mouth kiss. She sighed wantingly as he tasted the wine on her breath.
Absently, he reached behind him, closing the door.
Not Elizabeth after all. No fake dating for Roy Mustang this night.
Just Riza.