Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye (flame_queen) wrote in elsewhere_rpg, @ 2017-12-05 11:40:00 |
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Entry tags: | fullmetal alchemist: riza mustang, fullmetal alchemist: roy mustang |
Who: Brig. General Roy Mustang & Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye
What: Roy visits Riza at work, after this
When: December 6th, Evening
Where: Madame Chastity’s
Rating: PG-13
Status: Log - Complete
The Lieutenant had returned four hours ago. Two hours after, she had dressed for work and told Roy she’d be back by morning, she’d told him to try and rest, and then she’d left. She hadn’t wanted to-- Marco had left him and she knew Roy would be alone, but she had to go earn money. The bit of savings she’d squirreled away were given up to the Inn upon her return and there was nothing left to give for the next week. They needed money. Sure, she knew she could ask York, but she refused to accept money from Marco, he was just a boy and didn’t need to be helping the adults. And while she knew the Spartan was already strapped, taking care of his own brood, she knew she could count on him to give her what she needed. But she didn’t want to ask. So the blonde had gone to work. She was there now and when Mustang made it into the place, he’d look behind the bar to find it empty, but only a glance around the room would reveal the Lieutenant, holding onto two pints of ale in one hand and a shot in the other-- with a man standing in front of her who had grasped her about the waist and pulled her in flush against him. He was saying something against her ear, and true to her nature, she stood passively there, though her eyes were narrowed down. After a few seconds, he released her and smiled slowly, taking the shot and pressing a few bills between her breasts, then he gave her a wink. She nodded once and moved on to drop off the ale at another table, then she was accepting their money and wiping her hands off on the cloth at her waist, turning back for the bar. That was when she saw Mustang and the Lieutenant paused.. Then breathed in and came forward. “Sir. Can I get you something to drink?” She pulled the money from her cleavage and did up a button, to give a bit more modesty. *** Marco had done a superhuman job at keeping Roy steady and on his feet. He hadn’t simply taken care of Roy, but had actively pushed the man into taking care of himself. He’d forced him up and out of bed, gave him shit to do and followed through in making him accomplish it. Roy hadn’t floundered or fallen apart, because he had a steadfast presence beside him. But when Hawkeye had come back, all of that buried fear and twisted emotion had come to the surface and Roy Mustang clung to the woman like she was a lifeline. In a lot of ways, she was. If Roy didn’t have Marco and then lost Hawkeye, he’d have eaten a bullet for breakfast a long time ago. But she was back and Roy needed her. It wouldn’t have killed her, or him, to spend the night together before they went back to business as usual. But Hawkeye was a relentless force of nature and business as usual was her standard mode of operation. She’d let Roy… Roy for a few hours, and then she’d gone about things as required, putting him back in his place well before he was ready to be put there. But she never minded if he was ready or not. But he hadn’t been ready, which was why he’d eventually followed her out. Alphonse had come and gone, and rather than moping after Marco to complain, the General had dressed and gone out on his own. When he entered the establishment, he garnered his own fair share of attention. He was, after all, a very good looking man who dressed remarkably well. He looked dashing in his blue uniform, with his rakish hair doing its own thing, fierce eyes glittering in mischief even as a charming smile played across his stupid handsome face. It was all facade. Well, maybe not all, but it was farce enough for the moment he stood and watched another man handle his Lieutenant. Briefly, Roy’s thoughts swept from dark to horrible as he cataloged all the alcohol in the building that would burn with the right application of fire. He could burn the liquid from the man’s blood stream. He could inflict more pain on him than he could actually bother damaging him. Roy Mustang considered torturing the man for the gall of touching Lieutenant Hawkeye. Maybe she’d recognize the look in his eyes. But he had definitely somehow managed to keep that weirdly charming look about him. “Oh, come on,” he replied, “At least call me ‘Roy’ here. I’m not your boss here, I’m a customer.” And he’d happily murder everyone inside the building for their offenses. Maybe he shouldn’t have come out, after all. *** As if he was much different than the men in this building. Sure, he didn’t pay his women, but he treated them just like playthings. How was he any different? Slipping behind the bar, the blonde woman would pour Roy a drink and set it in front of him. “I thought you’d have gone to see Marco by now, sir.” Of course she’d ignore his request for her to call him ‘Roy’, she’d been ignoring it for the last decade, why would she start listening now? Silly man. “I’ll only be a few more hours. I’ll wake you when I get back, if you’d like.” Not that he’d be sleeping, he was always awake when she came home from work. She was speaking to him, of course, but she wasn't saying much. Her eyes said more than her mouth ever did. The look said that she knew what he wanted to do and that she was glad he’d handled himself so well. She was proud of him. Everything was fine here, General. *** Roy Mustang had absolute self control. He appeared to be a reckless, carefree individual who acted for his own benefit every step of the way. All of that was carefully crafted falsity. What he had was self discipline. He didn’t do things simply because he wanted to or simply because he felt like it. Burning the man would make him feel about a thousand times better, but it would make the situation in Elsewhere worse. As the so called ‘leader’ (he was honestly just the only one bothering to try coordinating efforts for survival) of their ragtag group, he had more than himself to consider. So he let the fantasy play out in his mind, turning his attention on Hawkeye in earnest as he slid onto a stool on the opposite side of the bar, leaning on his elbows as Riza poured him a drink. “No, kid needs a night off,” Roy said flippantly. Then he grinned his stupid grin. “You can wake me up if you like, but you have to do it with that button undone.” Give him a show, Lieutenant. That would certainly catch his attention. He was such a glib asshole sometimes. *** Sometimes, Riza just wanted to shut him up. A hand lifted to undo the button she’d done up when he came in. “Drink your drink, sir.” She pushed the glass closer, then turned to meet with a few other men at the end of the bar and get them their drinks, before she returned to Roy once again. “Tomorrow we need to look for a new place to live. Something with a room for Marco.” So he didn’t have to sleep with them in their single, large room. So they wouldn’t have to keep shelling out all this money to the Inn. They needed to find an abandoned place they could make their own. The Lieutenant couldn’t keep doing this. She needed her own space. Roy needed his own space. There needed to be a place the boys could do their Alchemy. She wanted a kitchen. A shower of her own. They couldn’t keep doing this. *** Lieutenant Hawkeye in the wild. Roy considered yapping on about the lingerie he’d bought her way back in Knowhere and how it would be fifty kinds of useful right about now. Did she want him to go find her another set? He considered all sorts of horrible taunts, just to get on her nerves, because he didn’t know how else to be with her. Every different angle he’d tried fell flat, so he was simply.. Done trying. Instead, he leaned his elbow on the counter, rested his head on his hand and watched the unusually quiet woman go around making other men and women happy. Lieutenant Hawkeye in the wild was wildly efficient. But she was efficient at everything she did. Roy took a drink finally, squinting down at the glass with distaste before he shrugged and took another drink. When she came back, he watched her closely. Professionally, they could read each other fine. Professionally, they picked up the nuances of each other’s looks and knew all the tells. Roy’s expression changed slightly and he nodded. She’d been doing all the heavy lifting since they’d got here. Roy had let her. “There’s a few places,” he replied evenly. Then he cracked his grin again, “Marco and I almost got kicked out of the Inn a week ago. He challenged me to a game so I made a bunch of seals on the doors and trapped him inside it. Residents got pissed off that the doors wouldn’t open. I fixed it, but…” He looked like a happy child. See what happened when you left the children unsupervised, Riza? “So we started looking for other places because we’d be living in a dumpster otherwise.” *** Roy didn’t make any smart remarks. He didn’t joke. He didn’t harass her. His face changed. He relaxed slightly. And for the first time, he looked like he understood what she was going through. It made her shoulders drop just a little. It made her look oddly vulnerable in a place she couldn’t be. But the look was all there in her eyes, gone unnoticed by the others in the building. Roy Mustang. But then he was gone. The vulnerable look in Riza’s eyes was gone just as quickly. Oh, General, had you noticed how she reacted to you when you didn’t try to be something you weren’t? And how she changed just as quickly when you did? “Then perhaps tomorrow you can show me what you’ve found.” As always, his humor was lost on her. She had a job to do. *** His humor was lost on her. But it also meant she missed--or blatantly ignored--the moments he was genuinely happy. Maybe it had become so wrapped up this charade of a human he was playing at, because sometimes Roy didn’t know when he was feeling real things either. He did know spending time with Marco made him happy. He had a friend, and for how stupid their game in the Inn had been, it had been fun. He’d just failed at communicating that to Hawkeye. But that was typical. So he blinked, serious and remote again because his antics just annoyed her. She never said it, but he knew. He knew because she went to huge lengths to ignore them. So backtrack, backtrack to that moment where she might have said something real before he opened his mouth. Go back to that moment where you wanted to make her look less tired, Roy. “Okay,” he said, finishing the drink and pushing the glass back toward her side of the counter, “I’ll show you.” He could mellow it out. *** The Lieutenant let out a soft breath and she nodded, just once. “Yes, sir.” He’d show her and she’d be glad to look. They needed a new home. “You should finish your drink and try and get some rest.” Tugging out a rag, she began to wipe down the bar, glancing past Roy as one of the whores came over with a smile at Riza. A hand smoothed over Roy’s shoulder and the dark haired woman turned the General’s face towards her. “Who is this incredibly fine man you’re entertaining, Riza? My, aren’t you gorgeous..” A hand carded through his hair. “Why don’t you come upstairs with me? This one’s on the house.” The barmaid turned away from the scene in front of her to clean up the bottles behind the bar and go check on the others at the end. She didn’t like watching Roy flirt with other women, though she certainly allowed it. It didn't mean she had to suffer through the entire process. *** Roy liked being touched. Very few people in his life offered physical contact and to a man for whom touch was so important to his mental well-being, he was starved for it. Two things happened when the woman came up to him. She touched him, and Roy went rigid on anxiety based reaction. Since the incident with Levi several weeks ago he’d been leery about strangers being near him at all, let alone laying their hands on him. Trauma, Georgia had said, when he’d talked to her about it very briefly after the fact. She too had a weird thing about touch, he’d casually asked her about it and she’d explained her cultural reasons for avoiding contact. But second of two reactions was Roy’s silent desire for affection. The woman touched him, she threaded her fingers through his hair and turned his face just so. He smoothed out the rigid tensity in his shoulders and allowed her to handle him for a moment because it felt good. Roy smiled that stupid charming smile of his, “I’d love to, sweetheart,” he told her. And he really actually meant it. She was gorgeous and something told Roy she’d happily take charge and take exactly what she wanted from him. “But I’ve already promised her I’d take her home with me instead.” Her being Hawkeye. Roy winked. “Let me buy you a drink though..” For inconveniencing her, though he hadn’t actually gone out of his way to get her attention. *** The pretty woman laughed softly, looking after Riza, who kept her back to them, but listened. “You don’t want her, handsome. She’s not nearly as experienced as I am. And she’s in love with some idiot of a man. You’re better off letting that one go. She’s not going to be any good. Not like me.” A hand pressed to his shoulder to turn him and his stool to face her, then she was climbing into his lap. It was the girls’ job, of course, to protect Riza when they could. Not that she needed it, really, but this guy had decided he was taking the blonde home? He wouldn’t be. This woman would entice him upstairs, or someone else would, so the bartender could go home safely and not have to be worried about some creep following her home. Riza paused in her cleaning and turned back to look at them, when the woman leaned in to lap at the General’s mouth. *** Roy liked a woman who took charge. There was something fundamentally pleasing in being able to let go of his control. He didn’t often get to do it, so having someone simply decide what was going to happen was fucking fantastic. The woman climbed into his lap, which he had to admit was sexy as hell. That space between her legs was hot and inviting, even through the layers of his clothes and the scanty lingerie under her skirts. Both hands found the woman’s hips, taking them in a strong grip that could pull her in closer or lift her well off of him. Roy did the latter. He wasn’t rude about it, he wouldn’t humiliate her. He just... pushed her away, keeping a firm enough grip that she wouldn’t tumble and fall to the floor, but he used the motion to direct her back to her feet and pushed up to his own in the same space. He leaned closer as he did, “I said I wasn’t interested,” he said quietly, sternly. He’d leave no room for ambiguous intentions. He just didn’t want to be touched by a stranger. He wanted to go home and curl up with his two most important people. He wanted that stupid spike of anxiety to stop flaring when his personal space was invaded. “Riza,” he called to the Lieutenant, “get this beautiful lady here a drink. On me.” For all the money he had. But he’d make it up to Hawkeye. *** The woman looked suddenly very displeased, her eyes narrowed down and one of the bouncers came out of the shadows. But Riza was there a second later, pouring a drink and setting it on the bar top. “Danielle, this is the General, Roy Mustang.” The words from the Lieutenant had the whore’s eyebrows going up and her features changing from anger to surprise and her hand lifted a little, telling the bouncer things were okay. “So this is the famous General?” Her voice was nearly a purr as she plucked up the drink, a playful flirtation taking over, but it was just that. “Well, it’s very nice to meet you, sir.” A tease, of course, because she knew Riza called him that. The drink was brought to her lips, sipped delicately, and she just watched Roy with amusement. Riza let her eyes slide over to the General. “Another drink, sir?” Oh, that made the whore smile even wider. *** He’d made the right call at least, in not telling her that he was waiting for a man or something. That would have just made this whole thing awkward. Roy smiled that stupid smile of his, his eyes glowing with playfulness. He was acting again, and Roy Mustang deserved awards for how good he was at it. If there was an academy in Amestris, he’d win every category. “Mmm I’m pleased my reputation precedes me,” he replied to Danielle. “You are quite a delight,” he said, as he reached into his pocket and fished out what money he did still have on his person. He used it to cover the drinks (would it be weird to tip Hawkeye with her own money?) and then offered Danielle a bigger portion for her trouble. Roy wasn’t an idiot. He knew what happened to girls who wasted their time and didn’t bring in the money for the night, their fault or not. Danielle might well catch some bullshit for Roy wasting her time, though she’d claimed it was on the house. He’d compensate her for that not to happen. He was a good person. “No,” he told Riza. He’d run out of money, unless she wanted to be paying out of her tips tonight, he’d be drinking water. He wouldn’t stay long though, just enough to make sure Danielle didn’t get the impression she’d managed to chase him away. But not long enough to continue hindering Hawkeye’s work. He did determine, however, that she wouldn’t keep working here. *** Danielle didn’t stick around too long and ended their brief conversation with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before she sauntered off to someone else who’d been watching her. It left Roy alone for a few minutes while his Lieutenant was talking with another customer who had reached out to play with her hair as he stared at her face, talking to her about nothing of importance. He just wanted to keep her close. He wasn’t even staring at her breasts-- but her eyes. It felt awkward for the woman, but she did well to endure it and responded when appropriate. Eventually, the man released her hair and used that hand to tilt her chin up, running his thumb briefly against her bottom lip before she was released. He’d turn and give his full attention to the pretty blonde whore who’d come to distract him, and she enticed him upstairs-- the girls had learned that when someone was too interested in Riza, they sent over someone who had the same long, blonde hair. It usually worked to lure them away and get them a customer. It gave Riza time to work her way back over to the General. “You should head home, sir. I’m sure Marco will be along shortly.” And the two could keep one another company. *** How did she do that? Roy touched women casually all the time, but only after he’d determined it was appropriate and welcome. How did she and all the other women in the place let people lay their hands on them whenever they pleased? … the same way Roy did, before it bothered him too much to be touched by strangers. He’d get over it eventually, but for now his trauma was buried under the surface of his collected calm. His dark eyes switched back to Hawkeye when it occurred to him she’d been talking. He raised a brow. What had she said? “No, he left because he wanted to give us time. In case you haven’t noticed, he’s pushing for us more than we are.” He did push away from the bar though, tapping it lightly. “Come back to me,” he said. She always did, but he wanted to hear her say it before he left. *** Marco was pushing for them more than they were. The very words had her turning her eyes away briefly. There was no ‘them’. She’d made that clear to Marco.. Idiot boy. She went back to wiping off the bar, pausing only when he said that. He never had to before. He knew she’d come back. She always did. So.. why now? A few seconds of brown on blue and the blonde would finally nod. “Yes, sir. I’ll always come back to you.” Until one day when she wouldn’t. But they both knew that day would eventually come, one day they’d both die. “Be safe, sir.” On his way home, of course. *** I love you. He thought the words but didn’t say them. He’d said them enough times to a non-response that he’d gotten the message by now. He’d played the game and she’d won. It wouldn’t change the way he felt, not even close. It wouldn’t change his devotion. But he’d stop saying the words. He wasn’t very good at them with her anyway. He was a lot better at showing than he was at telling. So he just lingered for a moment, looking at her, a faint smile crossing his visage then disappearing. “Okay,” He believed her when she said she’d come back. That was what he wanted. “See you at home.” And then he put his hands in his pockets and turned away, heading back out into the quiet of the night. *** “Yes, sir.” And the blonde woman would watch him head out of the establishment. It’d be almost six hours, well after midnight, that Riza came home. Some nights, she came in to grab clothes then went back out to get herself a shower. One that lasted longer than the hot water did. And some nights, the showers were all occupied, and she was too tired to wait, so she went to bed feeling dirty. Tonight, she checked the shower outside their room before heading inside, quiet as she could be, and grabbed up something to sleep in. She didn’t imagine Roy would be sleeping, but in case she was, she didn’t want to disturb him. New clothing found and held close to her chest, the Lieutenant would make her way back to the door, staying as quiet as she could, lest those dark eyes open. *** He didn’t sleep. Not really. Not without her or Marco there to temper his anxiety. He was spoiled, you see. Since she arrived in Knowhere, he’d had someone there to protect him from his dreams. With her there, he sometimes slept for a whole five hours. When she wasn’t, he barely slept at all. It didn’t matter how exhausted he was. But he’d dozed, he’d pulled out the photos Alphonse had brought and he’d tortured himself into a useless pit in his mind until he’d drifted off with the photos spread around the surface of the bed. He hadn’t cried, he hadn’t done anything but stare at them and imagine a world different from the one he lived in. When Hawkeye came home, Roy had opened his eyes. His paranoia wouldn’t let him do anything else, so he’d watched in the dark as she moved around and when she tried to make her escape back out to the bathrooms, Roy reached out to stop her. “Hawkeye,” he said, “Stay.” Or he’d likely get up and follow her into the bathroom. *** Stay. She didn’t want to stay. She felt disgusting. She’d had men touching her all night and all she wanted to do was scrub the smell of smoke and sex off of her body and pretend like things were normal. Stay. How could she say no? Lowering the clothes in her hand, she’d come closer to Roy and sit beside him on the bed. The smell she brought with her wasn’t pleasant, but it was one the General was used to. He knew the scent of places like that. Of the women that worked in them. Of course, Riza wasn’t one of those women, but she came home smelling like it. “I don’t want to ruin your photos, sir.” Where had he gotten them from? She wanted to reach out and pick one up, to look over the face of the long-dead man who held the heart of the man she loved. But she didn’t. It wasn’t her place. Instead, she just sat there with her back to him. *** She came closer and sat. Roy pushed himself up as she did, scooting nearer to her so that when she sat he was flush behind her. Roy wrapped strong arms around her, capturing one of her wrists in his hand and then the other, crossing them over her chest so that he was effectively caging her against his chest. He ducked his head down into the crook of her throat, silently breathing her in. She smelled like a whore house. He didn’t care. He just wanted to hold her. She’d been gone too long. He missed her. Roy was quiet for several long seconds before he opened his eyes, looking down at the photos. Maes was dead, but Roy could hear his friend’s moronic taunting loud and clear. What are you waiting for, you moron? Roy smiled faintly but it was lost as he turned his head just a fraction to kiss her throat. She felt disgusting, well, he could make her feel beautiful. *** His arms came to wrap around her, his strong hands grasping her wrists and holding her there. Had it been anyone else, Riza would have broken an arm (or both) and put the man flat on his face. But it was Roy. She let him hold onto her like that, ensuring she couldn’t escape him. He must have really been worried she’d try to slip away. He had her locked in tight. And then? And then his mouth was on her neck, kissing, and those brown eyes cut over to him-- not that she could really see him like this, but she could see his shoulder without twisting too much. What was he doing? She was.. She was incredibly disgusting. Her skin tasted a bit salty from her sweat, long since dried. And the smell of semen from the brothel was surprisingly strong tonight. Of course, from this angle he’d see the stain on her shirt, where the smell was coming from. She’d washed it from her body, but hadn’t wanted to soak her clothes, so she’d just tried to wipe it off. The guy’d had his nose broken and had been thrown out for tossing his handful at her, but he’d looked pleased, smiling through bloody teeth as they’d dragged him out. She wasn’t sure she’d ever feel anything but dirty again. How did the girls do this every day and maintain any self respect? Oh, that’s right, they didn’t. Riza was strong, but she couldn’t take that sort of treatment forever. “At least let me change my clothes, sir.” If he wouldn’t let her up to shower. *** It was as pathetic of a plea as Hawkeye could ever make. She’d broken down once before and screamed her pain and horror as she’d unloaded several weapons’ worth of ammunition into a creature. But during that whole thing, she’d not once begged or plead. She wasn’t even really doing it now, but that was as close as it came. Roy remained in position for a beat or ten longer, before he slowly released the grip he had on her wrists, smoothing his hands up her arms as he uncrossed his own from around her. “Shower,” he said, “You smell awful.” He chuckled into her blonde hair. “Why do you let me lay with you when I come home smelling like this?” He wasn’t offended. He was just trying to make light of it. Roy kissed her blonde hair, then gave her a small nudge. He’d follow her. *** Finally released, the blonde woman stood up and glanced back down at him. “I hold my breath.” In response to his smell, of course. Clothing gathered again, Riza would make her way out of the room and two doors down to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. It didn’t lock, none of the doors in this place locked, but it didn’t matter. She could shower quickly and get back to Mustang. Stripped down, the Lieutenant would toss her clothes into a pile in the sink, then climb into the shower-- but when she heard the door click open quietly over the roar of the water, her eyes cracked open and her hand moved out to grasp the gun she set high on the small ledge just over the shower head. Cocking the gun carefully, she’d push open the plastic curtain to point it at whoever had dared invade the bathroom. Her eyes widened a little when she saw it was Roy and the gun lowered. “Sir--” What was he.. She let out a soft breath. “Just sit down, I won’t be long.” He could wait. *** He was needy. There was no other word for it. She’d been gone too long and he wanted to be close to her. It would almost be cute that he’d followed after her like a lost puppy waiting to be pet. But mostly it was just sad. He’d lingered long enough for her to get in the shower before he really did get up to follow after. He wasn’t surprised she pulled a gun on him though. They were both paranoid. Her exasperated breath went ignored. She didn’t send him away which was better than usual. He nodded at her though, letting her go back to her business while he briefly weighed the likelihood of her shooting him in the next five minutes. That was fine. If she did, maybe he’d get the message for real. Roy didn’t hesitate, otherwise he’d reason himself into a better response, but stripped out of pants and shirt--even his slippers--and then down to nothing. “Riza,” he said, to what.. .warn her? He pulled the curtain open and stepped in. *** Putting the gun back, the blonde just shook her head some and went back to scrubbing at her body, the curtain tugged back into place. Then her shower was disturbed by the General again, saying her name-- she turned as if to open the curtain and ask what he needed, but then he was stepping in. Naked. The heat from the shower had already flushed her, or else she might have had some color rise to her cheeks. What was he doing? The idiot. The asshole. “That gun is loaded, General.” She warned him calmly.. But then she stepped forward and curled an arm around his neck, tugging him down so she could press a kiss against his lips. The Lieutenant was sure she’d never needed anything more in her life than she needed this right now. Don’t wreck it, General. *** “I wagered-” He didn’t finish the sentence because her lips were on his. She kissed him and he kissed her back, making a noise into the press of her lips as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Nothing between them was ever easy, but this? Oh,god. Roy wanted this. She did, too. He pulled the woman close against him, wet and soapy and all. She was beautiful. He loved her. He wanted her, but more than that? He wanted to unravel her and make her feel good for just one moment if that was all they got. If moments were all they had, then he’d do anything to make it worthwhile. So he kissed her and he caught her wrists again and used them to keep her close, “Tell me what you want me to do to you.” She never voiced her opinions. Well. She’d do it now. *** She did want this, just as much as he did. They just had to be careful, she didn’t have the medicine here that she had back on Knowhere. His hands caught her wrists. He held her. She breathed shakily against his mouth as he spoke those words. What did she want? “Up against the wall, General.” Her words were very nearly a demand. More than that, they sounded like an order. A command. “Now.” She finished, her hands clenching into fists for lack of anything better to do. If they were going to do this, it’d be with her legs around him and her back to the cool tile. Because, there was just no other way. Hopefully, Roy Mustang was willing to take orders from his Lieutenant-- but she didn’t think it’d be an issue. He did whatever she said on a regular basis, now would be no different. *** Against the wall. Now. The shower kept it from being obvious, but a shiver ran down Roy’s back at those words. Not for the words themselves, but for the way she’d said them. She was so god damned sexy when she took control. Roy made a small noise of pleasure, releasing her wrists to take her hips in hand instead. He backed her up under the stream of water and hoisted the woman up as he pressed between her thighs. Leaning in, he brushed a kiss over her lips. “How do you want it,” he asked. He’d damned well make her be explicit today, if it was the best way to make her speak. Besides, he was enjoying this. *** Lifted like that, she wrapped her legs around his waist and waited-- but nothing happened. What the Hell was he waiting for? Wait, was he talking? How do you want it? Was he serious? Like he needed instructions for this. That asshole. Was he really going to make her walk him through it? “General,” the title was nearly a snap, “If you aren’t inside me in the next ten seconds, I’m going to shoot you.” One of her hands grasped dark, wet hair and she jerked his head back some. “And you better pull out.” Don’t finish inside her. Rule one. But it seemed there was only that one rule, because following it, she used his hair to drag his head in for another, deeper kiss. *** That was the most thrilling threat she’d ever issued him. It also spurred him to move. She was a strong woman who could support her lithe weight with her thighs around his hips, but he took hold of her hips anyway, hands sliding down to cradle her buttocks for leverage. “You’re beautiful like this,” he told her, and then he stopped talking before she did actually shoot him. He opted instead to reach between them with one hand, fingers curling around the length of his cock to angle appropriately as he pushed his hips forward. Roy gasped a sound, gripping her tighter as he pulled the woman into his forward motion. *** He was lucky he’d shut up when he did, because she’d narrowed those brown eyes down on him-- until he was thrusting up and she gasped and tightened her arms around his neck, head tilting back and legs tightening. She wondered if she’d ever get used to that initial feeling of pain. Of course, it subsided much more quickly this third go round and the Lieutenant was moving her hips to encourage him, one of those legs pressing to keep him closer, to trap him there against her. The pace would be set by Roy, understandably, and he would dictate how long it went on. If they ran out the hot water, she would surely enjoy several orgasms in between-- but if the General just didn’t have it in him? Well, hopefully he’d make her pleasure a priority and ensure she got off before he finished. And, hopefully, he had enough of a mind to listen to her warning. Then again, she might be working against his better judgement when she felt his thrusts come harder and the strong fingers of the sniper grasped his hair and jerked his head to the side painfully. “Not inside.” She warned in a harsh, demanding tone. *** Her pleasure was his only priority. Don’t get him wrong, she felt fantastic and his brain had short circuited somewhere between her death threats and being inside her, so that the motions were the natural roll of hips and the short thrusts of animal desire. But it was toward a concerted effort to make her feel good. And when she pulled his hair? Growled her demand at him? Oh god, that he didn’t immediately disobey her order and come inside her then was some kind of miracle. His fingers dug into the soft bits of her thighs in reply, gripping her harder as his pace quickened, the motions of his hips more erratic. It was all animal need and wild pleasure with her wrapped around him. Roy buried his face in her throat and groaned his own pleasure when he forced himself to pull out and lowered her to her feet so he could lean bodily against her and finish into his own hand, under the cool splash of water and the sound of rugged breathing. *** That.. was so unsatisfying. Not the actual act, but the very sudden and abrupt absence of that full feeling, it was like a shock to her system and she just breathed heavily as she watched his face, finishing into his hand. She felt a little like she’d ruined it somehow, but it was necessary. She wouldn’t let one stupid night together ruin their lives. So with him panting against her, both of her arms drew up again, holding him in close and cradling him there, brushing her fingers through his wet hair and helping bring him down off his high slowly. She had you, General. You were safe in the sniper’s strong arms. She had everything under control. “It’s okay.” She whispered against his ear. *** Unaware of Riza’s thoughts, Roy wrapped his arms around the woman in turn, breathing hard. He kissed her blonde hair. His dark eyes were closed. She was whispering words, her hands were in his hair. It was the nicest thing he’d felt in a week. He was okay. Hawkeye had him. She’d come back to him. He loved her. He’d do everything in his power to make her happy. “Stay with me,” he said instead. He didn’t want to be alone. He wasn’t alone. She was here. Roy smiled into her hair. “Did I hurt you?” His brain seemed to be firing properly. Slowly, sure. But the thoughts were slowly coming in comprehensively. *** Stay with him? “Forever.” She reminded him quietly, turning her head to press her lips against that dark hair and linger. Then she set her cheek there. Had he hurt her? Well, maybe a little, but it wasn’t of any consequence, she was a grown woman, she could take it. And it felt good. He’d only done exactly what she’d asked him to. So, had he really hurt her? “No, I’m fine.” She’d be sore in the morning and when she got to work, all the girls would know. Great. “Are you alright?” She knew he was. But she had to ask, all the same. She hadn’t exactly gotten clean.. But she felt much less dirty, and all she wanted to do now was sleep. *** “Good,” he heard himself saying. She was alright. Though, would she tell him otherwise? Tonight he chose to believe she was being honest. She had her arms around him, she’d kissed his hair. It was gentle and intimate and it was damned welcome. It was all he wanted when there was nothing else to give. He just wanted to be there, in her arms. And now he was. He relaxed, it was a physical slump of his shoulders, the notable ease of his muscles. He let out a soft breath of relief. “I’m always fine with you,” he told her. And, as if reading her thoughts, or maybe just because he was exhausted, he pulled away just some and looked into her deep brown eyes, “Come on. It’s warm under blankets.” The water had gotten remarkably cold sometime earlier. He hadn’t noticed until they stood there drenched in it. *** Warm blankets sounded nice. So, taking a final kiss from his lips, the Lieutenant would turn off the water and climb out past him, grabbing her towel and doing a quick wipe down. She'd only brought one so they needed to share, and drying her hair would soak the towel, so she just wiped the rolling, chilled water from her body. The fluffy towel was then passed back to Mustang so she could pull on her clothes. Well. She'd done it again. She'd been weak. The woman with the Killer's eyes had led her General on another few steps. Was it cruel of her? She thought so, but kept that to herself. Soon, they were back in their room and the blonde was using another towel to dry off her hair some before climbing into the bed. Those dark eyes watched the older man patiently. Waiting for him to get in the bed with her. She didn't say anything aloud, she didn't have to. Her eyes did all the talking. Come join her, General, she would take care of you, keep you safe, and chase away your nightmares. *** It was cruel. It was back and forth, a bunch of mixed signals that left him confused. Did she want him? Only sometimes. Under the right conditions. He didn't know what those were, everything else had fallen flat. But he wasn't thinking about it just then. He only dried off, pulled his pants back on and his slippers, then he followed the woman back to their room and when she climbed into bed, he stood there and watched her briefly. Then the man followed and slid in after her, wrapping strong arms around her and burying his face against her chest. He was safest there in those arms. He loved her. |