Work Text:
“Ow. Ow. Sheesh, okay I can—motherfuc—”
“Sir,” Riza sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose and shaking her head. A fond smile still tugs at her lips.
“Yes, Lieutenant?” The Colonel's voice calls back through the cracked open door of their hospital room’s bathroom. Riza easily picks up on the forced nonchalance in his tone.
“Will you just let me help you?” she asks for the third time.
“It’s a very simple task,” her stubborn superior repeats. “If I can’t even shave my own damn face then I can’t call myself the future leader of this nation."
Riza simply rolls her eyes.
“Sir,” she says calmly but makes sure he can hear her exasperation. “I think having both your hands pierced through, having your eyesight stolen, and having helped save the entire country just two days ago are all valid reasons to be unable to perform such a task on your own.”
At her very blunt words, the Colonel’s face peeks through the door, half of his covered in foam except for one strip down the side. He has a deadpan expression and it makes Riza chuckle. She gets to her feet and pads over to him.
“But those reasons are never enough to spare me from your brutally honest remarks, are they?” he says.
Riza smiles, nudging him back with a hand so that she can open the bathroom door fully. “Of course not, sir.”
The Colonel chuckles, allowing her to maneuver him over to sit on the closed toilet lid before surrendering his razor. Riza grabs a hand towel and wets it before wiping away the shaving cream on his face. She tips his chin up with her finger and inspects the small cut. It’s no longer actively bleeding so she deems it non-urgent.
She washes out the washcloth and squeezes more shaving cream onto his applicator, applying it onto his scruffy face until it foams up again. Then she picks up the razor once more.
“Okay, I’m going to start above your lips,” she announces. The Colonel purses his lips and hums in acknowledgment.
Riza works carefully and precisely, making her way across each section, taking the time to wash out the razor every few strokes. She quietly tells him where she’s moving to next before she does so. It could be that she has a blade very close to his mouth, but the Colonel is quiet as she works. But the silence is pleasant, doesn't feel like the forced kind. It’s comforting like a blanket.
When she’s done, she wipes down the shaving cream thoroughly and then gently pats his face dry with a new towel. The Colonel begins to stand but she sits him back down with a click of her tongue. He obeys, eyebrows rising in amusement.
“Making me live up to my role as a dog of the military, eh Lieutenant?” he jokes. She replies with a slight slap of the aftershave onto his cheek. The Colonel laughs as she rubs it onto his face.
“All done, sir,” she says after giving his face a final inspection. Riza will only admit to herself that she may have looked at his face a little longer than necessary.
The Colonel gets to his feet and Riza steps aside, watching him touch his face for his own assessment.
“Nice work,” he says and Riza smiles, shifting to put away all the supplies on the little sink. “One might assume you’ve had tons of practice with many men, Lieutenant.” His tone has a teasing lilt to it and Riza rolls her eyes again.
“I did have tons of practice,” she says. “I’m the one who helped my father shave when he was in his last days.”
Riza didn’t mean for the comment to bring down the atmosphere so dramatically but it does. She only meant it as a quip back in his direction but the effect it has is not what she intended. She feels a little guilty.
“Right,” The Colonel says tightly. “I’m…sorry. That was unnecessary”
Riza shakes her head even though he can’t see her. “No, I’m—I’m sorry. I was just trying for a witty response but that’s not what it was.”
The corner of the Colonel’s mouth quirks up. “You have an interesting idea of what that means,” he teases. Riza just huffs, stepping forward to give him an apologetic pat on his chest. When she lets her hand rest there, he gently holds her wrist in his bandaged one. The comfortable silence settles over them both again.
It’s only belatedly that she realizes that she’s assuring herself by feeling Roy’s heart beneath her palm. Her emotions have been giving her whiplash since The Promised Day, despite her usual discipline with them. They've been hard to keep under control. But just as she gave Roy the reasons why it’s valid that he’s unable to shave his own face, she thinks it’s okay that she is unable to tame some of the debilitating emotions. It’s okay that she needs some help too.
Roy’s hand cautiously guides her hand from his chest and up to his jaw. The skin is soft and not at all prickly. Freshly shaved. She lets her thumb rub his cheekbone and she feels him exhale, breath warm. Roy turns his head slightly and presses a soft kiss to her palm.
Riza slips her hand to the back of his neck. Roy only dips down to meet her halfway only when she pulls him closer.
The kiss is easy and familiar but also tinged with an excitement reminiscent of their first and only kiss, over a decade ago now. But with everything that has happened since then—and in the past few days alone—there is a mix of desperation and gratitude and relief that also surrounds this stolen moment.
Roy’s hands are shaky as they settle on Riza’s waist, pulling her closer. She allows herself the leisure of threading her other hand into his hair as the first kiss turns into a second turns into a third. But they remain chaste, never crossing an unspoken line before they’ve had the chance to speak on this more. Because they both know there is a lot to discuss.
When they part, Roy doesn’t let her drift too far. He stays close, resting his forehead against hers. Riza looks up into his eyes which are slightly opened. She can tell from the tenseness of his jaw that he’s frustrated that he can’t see her. She caresses his cheek and feels him loosen.
“I’m getting a little light-headed,” she admits.
“Yes, I do tend to have that effect on women.”
Riza huffs a laugh and shakes her head. Roy’s hand comes up, searching, before tenderly tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“Well, I don’t need you falling and taking me down with you,” Roy says, cupping her cheek before pressing one more kiss to her forehead. Riza hums, relishing the affectionate gesture before guiding them back out of the bathroom.
They settle down on Roy’s bed. The silence returns and this time Riza has the urge to fill it with words. For once, to talk about them and not about everything and everyone else. It’s the one thing they’ve never had the luxury to do. Still don’t, technically.
Before the stinging bitterness of it rises from where she’s suppressed it for so long, Roy’s hand settles on hers. He intertwines their fingers and holds them in her lap.
He doesn’t speak but Riza fully understands everything he says. They’ve never needed words to understand each other anyway. She lets herself take in a steadying breath before carefully tipping her head to rest on Roy’s shoulder. The weight of his immediately settles on hers.