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Roy Mustang shifted, the large blanket laid over top of him slipping to the floor. His temples throbbed with a dull pain.
“Ugh, damn,” he grunted. Roy lifted his arm and tossed it over his eyes, trying to block the light. Maybe he could reach out and hold the tendrils of sleep that were slipping from his grasp. The night had been long and unkind, the guys had made sure of that.
Just as he was about to drift off, a knocking sounded at his door. When he didn’t move an inch from his spot, it came once more.
“No one’s home,” he said. The door opened and closed. A moment later, a cold damp nose nuzzled at the arm tossed over his eyes. Roy couldn’t stop the grin that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“That only works, Mustang, if you’re not actually home.” Riza said, her cold voice drifting to his ears. He peeked from under his arm, wincing at the bright sun. She wasn’t facing him, but the sight of her still took his breath away. Her blonde locks, tied up like usual, caught in the sunlight like liquid gold. It suited her. She was, after all, a treasure he’d somehow managed to keep by his side all this time. His team and the Elric brothers liked to poke at him whenever given the chance about their relationship, or lack thereof. Not that there was lac of trying on his end. Rather, Riza seemed to be unreceptive of his advances.
Or just plain dense.
“Yeah, dense.” Roy muttered as he sat up on his couch. Riza hummed her question at not hearing what he’d said. She was working in the kitchen, a white bag sitting at her feet. Coffee, freshly ground and brewed, eased the tension behind his eyes. Black Hayate whimpered from beside Roy, demanding his attention. Roy chuckled and patted the black and white pooch.
“You look like you had a rough night.” Riza said. She set down a steaming mug on the coffee table. She supped from a matching one as she took a seat on the chair across from him.
“The seat beside me is available.” Roy said, grinning as he took a sip. “I don’t bite, I promise.”
Riza returned his grin, unflustered. “No, you don’t, but I fear your stench may be lethal. Should we send you to the nearest warzone?”
Roy sputtered into his cup, the coffee burning his tongue and the back of his throat. He sniffed his clothed arm.
“Is it that bad?” Sure, he was still wearing the same thing from last evening and he hadn’t showered before passing out—hell, he didn’t remember getting home—but he didn’t think he smelled that bad.
“One might think you’re the owner of the pub.”
“Blame It on the Elric’s,” Roy said, leaning back on the couch. Black Hayate was finally settled at his feet, lying on top of his discarded blanket. “Edward wanted a bachelor party to remember. His brother wanted to deliver.” He met Riza’s eyes, unflinching until her gaze shifted, perusing his body. His mouth dried and his grip on his mug tightened. What did she see when she looked at him? What did she think?
Before he could ask either question, those deep brown eyes settled on back on his. A glimmer of humor caught in them.
“And was it, Mustang?” she asked. He lifted a brow and she chuckled, a small breathy sound. It was something he didn’t hear nearly enough. “A night to remember?”
Roy opened his mouth to respond but found that he couldn’t. God, how much had he drunk?
“Seems like the task was both fulfilled and unfulfilled. Let’s just hope Edward is well enough to stand at the alter or you’ll be Winry’s next client.” Riza stood from her chair and held out her hand. “More coffee?”
Roy looked down at his near empty mug and then back to Riza’s waiting hand. He let loose a small laugh and gave a shake of his head.
“I can get it, Hawkeye.” he said, and made his way to the kitchen. “Is that why you’re here?” He knew Riza was right behind him and handed her the pot of coffee when he’d finished filling his mug. “To check-up on the man child?” Though he smiled while he said it, his chest tightened and something in him soured. He lowered his head and closed his eyes so Riza wouldn’t see the bitterness. This was all she saw him as—has always viewed him. Someone to follow and help clean-up after.
“Well,” she said, laughter in her voice. Roy jerked, coffee sloshing in his mug, when he felt the cool delicate whisper of fingers at his brow. His eyes flew open, and he looked up. Riza’s face was so close to his, he could see the flecks of green in her eyes. “If not me, who else?” She brushed aside some unruly strands of his dark hair, though they returned to their original position almost immediately. Neither spoke as they held the other’s gaze, and yet words fought for freedom within Roy.
He set his mug down and reached out, ready to place his hands on her shoulders only to hesitate. His hands hovering, he bit his lip.
Down the hall, his bedroom door opened. Both Roy and Riza went on alert. Black Hayate stood, growling in the living room.
“Oh, Roy darling,” a feminine voice called. It was sweet enough to turn Roy’s stomach.
“Something you forgot to tell me, Mustang?” Riza asked, putting distance between them. He could feel the immediately chilling of her attitude, the warmth between them becoming a blizzard.
“No, I-”
A woman appeared at the entrance of his hallway. Roy didn’t recognize her in the least, but she’d clearly made herself at home. Her long brown hair was sleep tussled and she wore one of his buttoned white shirts, the piece of clothing ending at her thighs. Her very naked thighs.
“Roy~,” she called, though cut herself off when her eyes landed on Riza. Any sleep fog that may have been present vanished. A grin lit her petite face, and she clapped her hands together. “Oh my, is this her?”
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Riza stiffen. The woman rushed forward and held Riza’s hands in her own.
“Oh, you must be her.” She leaned forward and grinned. “Riza Hawkeye,” she said before a yawn took over her sentence. “Ah, sorry,” she said, the smile she had earlier turning malicious, “we were up all night.”
“Wait, that’s-” Who is this woman?
“Is that so?” Riza asked. The woman nodded and Riza extracted her hands from the woman’s. She turned her brown eyes to Roy. “I apologize, sir.”
Roy flinched at the glacial tone and use of ‘sir’ instead of his last name.
“I wasn’t aware you had a guest.” Riza swooped down and grabbed the plastic bag. She didn’t so much as look at him as she turned and made for the front door. She gave a short whistle for Black Hayate to follow.
Roy looked to Riza and then to this mystery woman who watched Riza with a grin. He rushed forward, following behind.
“Wait, Hawkeye, let me explain,” he said, unable to keep the desperation from his voice. He had to clear up this misunderstanding. If he didn’t, he bit his bottom lip. God, he didn’t want to think about what would happen if he didn’t fix this. Roy reached out, but again, he hesitated, unable to touch her. He didn’t have to. Riza stopped and spun around, forcing Roy to lower his hand. His stomach plummeted.
“There’s nothing to explain, sir.” There was absolutely nothing in her eyes. “You’re more than welcome to spend your night with whoever you wish.” Even her voice was detached.
“You-” he curled his hands into fists at his side. The desperation ignited into a miserable fury. “You really don’t care.” he said. Roy wasn’t sure what type of expression he made, but for a brief, fleeting second, he thought he saw the cold in Riza’s eyes thaw. It must have been a trick of the light, though, because it was gone in an instant.
“Don’t be late to the wedding. It’s at-”
“4:30 sharp, I know.” he said and closed the door. He needed the barrier, and he couldn’t stand her eyes on him a moment longer. Roy leaned against the door, his ears straining to hear, waiting for her receding footsteps. The throbbing in his head returned, though now it extended to his chest.
What was the point? He’d wasted all this time, put in all this effort, and for what? Riza would never share his feelings. She would only ever see him as her superior.
A giggle drew his attention. The stranger was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.
“Well, that was certainly an entertaining start to my morning. You alright, Roy darling?” she asked. Roy’s eyes narrowed as he walked toward her. “Oh~” she said. “Are we gonna play?” She had to crane her neck to be able to meet his eyes. “You know I like it rough.” She traced a nail down his chest, and he gripped her wrist, holding it away from him.
“Who the hell are you and how did you get in here?” Roy was in no mood to play around. Rather, he was in no mood to do anything other than cracking open the untouched bottle of brandy stashed away in his kitchen. Though, he knew any chance of doing that was hours away. At least the wedding reception would have champaign.
“You really don’t remember?” she asked, pursing her lips. Roy dropped her wrist and stalked back to his kitchen. He needed more coffee. “Last night was so-”
“Enough.” he barked, his voice hard. The woman snickered and perched herself on the counter opposite him. Beside her, sat Riza’s mug. His chest tightened and he forced his gaze back to the woman. “What’s your name?”
She was quiet for a long moment before huffing and running a hand through her hair. “Maria.” she said. It took a moment, but the name sparked a memory.
He’d met her last night at the bar he and the others had chosen as their last stop. It had already been going onto two a.m. and Al had been winding down. Edward had been rearing to go even though everyone could tell he was plenty drunk. As they’d been dragging the pipsqueak out, Roy had heard the beginnings of a skirmish.
“You were at the bar last night.” he said. Maria nodded. She picked invisible lint from her shoulder. “There were some guys who wouldn’t leave you alone.” It was all coming back to him now. He could feel the hum of leftover alchemy running through his veins. “I got rid of them for you.”
“My hero.” Maria said. Roy frowned.
“That doesn’t explain why you’re here.” He took a sip of his coffee, letting the bitterness ground him.
“I lost my apartment key, and my clothes were soaked with beer, curtesy of last night’s assholes.” Her nose crinkled, no doubt at the memory until she met Roy’s eyes. Then, she smiled, the vixen who’d just ruined his morning back in full. “You offered to let me stay and use your washer and dryer, a true gentleman. Even slept on the couch.”
Roy narrowed his eyes and looked her up and down once more. “Why’d you lie?”
“I don’t lie, darling.” she said as she inspected her nails. “It’s a nasty habit.”
“We never spoke about Riza.” He almost tripped over her name, the image of her cold gaze flashing through his thoughts.
“We did. Talked all while I was waiting to switch my clothes over. Believe me, Roy,” Maria said. She hopped from her perch, barely making a sound when she landed, and walked closer. She pinned her hands on either side of Roy. “I offered you better entertainment than conversation. You declined.”
Roy didn’t so much as move a muscle. Maria stayed in her position a moment longer before sighing and moving away.
“I wish there were more men like you, Roy darling.” Maria said as she swung her hips back and forth while walking back down the hall. “Riza is a lucky girl.”
His brow twitched. “Then why did you make her misunderstand?”
Maria tossed a look over her shoulder, a Cheshire grin gracing her full mouth.
“Repayment for last night with a dash of jealousy.”
***
Roy was still mulling over Maria’s words hours later as he stood at the wedding reception. The ceremony had gone off without a hitch, though sitting beside Riza had been tense. He knew the others felt it, too. Armstrong dared to ask, but the music played before Roy could answer.
Now, he stood leaning against the wall, nursing a flute of champaign as he watched the evening festivities. Edward was flued to Winry’s side. Neither of them had dropped their smiles. Roy couldn’t remember how many times they’d done a toast.
“Doesn’t look like last night affected him in the slightest.” Havoc said. The blonde took a spot beside Roy, cigarette balanced from the corner of his mouth. Fine tendrils of smoke coiled above it. Roy grinned.
“Not supposed to be smoking in here, Havoc.”
The man chuckled. “You gonna call security on me?”
“We are security.”
“Damn, and here I thought I finally got my vacation.” The two fell into a comfortable silence until Havoc nodded towards Riza. “So, you gonna tell me what happened there?”
Roy watched Riza, his grip in the champaign flute tightening. She stood speaking to Winry and Ed, an easy smile spread over her features. Her gown, made of dark blue fabric, stopped just above her ankles, a large slit traveling up the right-hand side. If she moved just right, he’d occasionally catch a glimpse of a gun holstered there. Roy was sure the delicate silver bird hair ornament she’d worn could be used as a weapon, too. Riza was truly a treasure, much too precious for him.
“Nothing.” he said and took a sip of the sweet drink. Havoc snorted.
“Nice try, but you’d have to be blind not to see somethin’s up, and even then, you’d feel it.”
Roy clicked his tongue, drawing another chuckle from his friend.
“Tell me what’s up, buddy. Maybe this romancer can help you out.”
“Remind me again how long you’ve managed to keep a girlfriend.” Roy said. Havoc raised a brow, waiting. Roy sighed. “Hawkeye came by the apartment this morning.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And there was another woman in my apartment.”
Havoc sputtered.
“She was wearing my shirt.” Roy sighed. He ran a hand over his slicked back hair. “And she said some…things.”
“What things?”
“Misleading things.”
The cigarette fell from Havoc’s mouth. His eyes were wide, and he seemed at a loss for words. Roy sighed.
“Did you-”
“No!” Roy said a little too loud. A few guests looked their way, and he lowered his voice. “No, we didn’t. Do you remember the woman from last night? The one we helped?”
Havoc’s brows drew together as he shuffled through his memories. The moment he landed on the right one, his eyes lit up.
“Oh, she was a looker. You took her home?” He elbowed Roy. “Mustang, you sly dog.”
Roy crinkled his nose and shoved Havoc. “You know I don’t do shit like that. She needed a place to stay and clean her clothes.” Havoc only stared and Roy’s face heated. “I’m telling the truth. I slept on the couch.” he said. Havoc stared at him for another moment before looking away and nodding towards Riza.
“OK, well, did you explain that to her?”
“Doesn’t matter if I explain it.” Roy said, staring down into his near empty glass. “She doesn’t care. Made that pretty obvious this morning.”
Havoc bent down and picked up his cigarette. “What makes you think that?”
“She didn’t react.”
“Hmm,” he hummed. “What did she do?”
“She did nothing, Havoc. She got her things and left. No emotion, whatsoever.” Experiencing it once had been hard enough. Talking about it wasn’t any better.
“Sounds like a reaction to me.” Havoc took out a new cigarette and lit it. He blew out a cloud of smoke. “Would the Hawkeye we know respond like that? Normally, she’d introduce herself at least and toss in some smartass jab towards you. Sounds like she made a quick getaway.”
“It was an awkward situation.”
“Since when does an awkward situation ruffle our bird’s feathers?”
Roy snorted and tossed Havoc a sideways glance. “She hears you calling her a bird, I doubt you’ll walk out of here.”
Havoc’s only response was a shrug. Roy’s gaze followed Riza around the room. His stomach clenched with every smile she shared with another. It was so different from how she’d looked at him before she’d left this morning.
“Fuck it,” he muttered and tossed back the remaining champaign in his flute. He handed it to Havoc and made his way across the room. As he reached Riza, a slow song began playing. “Hawkeye,”
Riza’s back stiffened for a split second before she regained her compsure and turned. The easy look she’d worn earlier was gone, replaced by the same cold detachment from this morning. Mustang flinched at that look. His insides clenched.
“Mustang,” she said, her tone all business as if they were in a meeting instead of a reception.
Roy shifted from foot to foot, a movement only Riza could bring out in him. Anyone else and he would have either put them in their place or left. Life was too short to live it feeling insecure. That way of life clearly didn’t apply to him when the woman in front of him was involved.
He cleared his throat. Loosened his tie. “Would you care to dance?”
The silence that stretched between them was tangible enough to be cut by a dull blade. It thought he’d collapse from the pressure when Riza finally put her hand out with a subtle nod. Roy looked between it and her before landing back on the waiting hand. The fingers on his own flexed. His stomach turned over and, for a moment, he thought he’d be sick.
Riza sighed. “You actually need to take my hand if you want to dance, sir.” Her brow twitched and something else—disappointment?—seeped into her eyes. “Or maybe you’d rather not dance with another woman.” She started to lower her hand and all hesitations Roy had vanished for a split second.
“There’s no ‘other woman’.” he said, his hand gripping hers. That small connection felt so…right. Roy couldn’t remember the last time anything had felt so natural or when he’d felt so complete. And then, it hit him. The knowledge. There were countless more times he’d felt like this, and they all involved Riza.
His eyes focused on their connecting hands. His thumb ran over the back of hers, the skin so smooth despite the callouses on the other side. Riza completed him in a way he never thought possible after the war and the countless lives he’d taken.
She didn’t look at him as a hero. She didn’t look at him as a monster. Riza saw him as Roy.
He lifted his eyes to hers, a small, tentative smile turning up the corners of his mouth. “There’s no one else.” he said once more. Surprise overtook her features, thawing the chill that had been there.
“But the woman-”
“Isn’t what you think.” Roy completed as he led her to the dance floor. Most other out there were in a relationship, slow dancing with the ones they loved. How nice that must be, to have a mutual understanding and connection. Roy looked down at Riza, the woman looking much smaller than he remembered. Small and fragile, though she was far from either. He knew that—had witnessed it first-hand and yet that didn’t stop his hand from trembling as he placed it on her hip. It didn’t go unnoticed by Riza.
“Are you-”
“Riza,” Roy said, his voice quiet. “Will you listen to me for a moment?” It was more of a plea than a question. Riza’s only response was a squeezing of his hand and a small nod. “The woman from this morning, her name is Maria. I met her last night.”
Riza stiffened in his arms but stayed silent.
“When the group and I were leaving the bar last night, Havoc and I saw her getting harassed by some men. She’d lost her apartment key and needed a place to stay.”
“So, you offered your place?”
“And I slept on the couch.”
“Why did you…talk about me?” she asked, and Roy’s gaze cut to where Winry and Ed were dancing. His chest tightened.
“I could never have feelings for any other woman or engage in any type of physical relationship with one-”
“Sir,” Riza’s voice was strained, and she tried to pull away from Roy. He tightened his hold on her hand, curled his fingers more securely around her waist.
“I could never have or do anything like that because everything I am and ever will be wholly belongs to you, Hawkeye.” he said, meeting her stunned eyes. She held her breath now and his voice trembled as he continued. “But it’s so hard, Riza.” He couldn’t hold her eyes, shame washing through him. “I look at you and I see the sun. I see hope and-and a future that I don’t dread and it’s so difficult. I want to reach out to you, hold you, laugh with you and then I look at myself, at my blood-stained hands and I’m terrified of putting out that sun and shattering that hope.” Roy took a shaky breath, his eyes stinging with unshed tears. “I’m not a good man. I’m not-” he didn’t want to say the words. Didn’t want to solidify what he already knew by releasing them into the world.
I’m not worthy of you.
For a while, the only thing between them was the music playing. At some point, they’d stopped dancing. People around them either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
Roy flinched when Riza’s hands cupped his face. She forced his eyes to meet hers. He almost lost control of his tears when he saw her smile, her gaze gentle. Warm.
“You remind me of an old story I once heard.” she said. Roy opened his mouth, but Riza continued, “But you’re mistaken on a couple things, Roy. I’m not the sun and I’m far from a savior.” She let go of his face and, for a moment, he thought all was lost until she took his right hand. “You aren’t the only one who’s done terrible things. You aren’t the only one with fears. I’m not a glass,” she said, lifting his hand until it cupped her cheek. “And I won’t break if you touch me.”
A shuddering breath ripped from Roy and his shoulders sagged forward. Riza pushed on.
“If you were as terrible as you believe yourself to be, that child,” she nodded towards Ed, “would probably be dead. If you were so terrible, you wouldn’t mourn a friend’s death. If you were the monster you claimed to be, Roy, I wouldn’t still be by your side.”
The tears fall slowly at first. One drop, then two, three, four, until there’s too many to count. Roy lowered his head.
“It’s a terrible day for rain.” he said, and when he looked up, Riza was still smiling. She brushed a few tears away with her thumb before pulling him closer and kissing them away.
“Yes,” she said. “It is.”