FMA: Nothing
Title: Nothing
Rating: T
Pairing: Roy/Riza
Summary: It's Roy's birthday, and he'll just have to be content with nothing.
A/N: This is a silly, slightly naughty fic I wrote for
juxtaposie 's birthday back in July. Meant to take place in the future and generally assumes that eventually they’ll say “screw it” to those silly fraternization rules and that the way they act towards each other at work and in private will evolve accordingly. This is, in fact, my first attempt at real Roy/Riza fic so, you know. Judge accordingly.
He hated when she played coy, and by “hated” he meant he loved it even if he would never admit it to her. There were several things his Hawkeye was reliable for: being pragmatic and down-to-earth and generally one of the most trustworthy sources of unwavering steadiness in his life were among them.
It was his job to be the rakish cad, to be the smirking know-it-all who flirted relentlessly even if she rebuffed his every proposition in front of her fellow officers (and only because once they were alone he was fair game).
Their relationship had these very set rules: Roy, for all appearances, assumed the position of a dominant male while Riza sat patiently behind him and made it sickeningly obvious to anyone who observed the pair for all of two seconds exactly who had control of whom.
It always, therefore, came as a surprise whenever she acted like a flirt, throwing him dangerously off-balance, forcing him to scramble and catch up with her, while secretly enjoying these moments when Riza really let herself act publicly as something more than a mildly put-upon lieutenant and her raffish commanding officer. They still had enemies in the military, and their bond had been used against them before. Riza rarely allowed the act to slip, no matter how much Roy enjoyed it.
When she blew into the office that blustery fall morning, Roy watched her carefully as she removed her coat and hung it up, smoothing her shirt sleeves and hair and grimacing as she looked at the inbox sitting on her desk.
“Today’s my birthday, you know,” he tossed out casually as she approached his desk to sort through his paperwork before tackling hers. Tilting his head sideways to look up at her, he inched forward, allowing his shoulder to brush her hip. “Did you get me a present?” he murmured, just barely loud enough to be heard by anyone else in the room.
She looked down at him; one side of her mouth was quirked up in a playful, knowing grin, and Roy felt a kind of elation light up in his chest at the lightning fast realization that he was one of very few people who got to see such a smile. “I’m afraid, sir, that I’ve completely forgotten what day it was.” Her tone was cheerfully unapologetic, and he felt the smile drop off his face as if a weight had been attached. “I’ve been very busy lately so…” her tone dropped, indicating that her words were for him only. “You’ll just have to be content with nothing.”
It always, always threw him off when she acted like this. She sat down primly at her desk, lopsided smile still in place, and proceeded to start working, entirely ignoring the look on his face that rather resembled a gasping goldfish.
“…You’ll at least be at Gracia’s tonight for my birthday dinner?” he blurted out, a touch of petulance in his voice.
Her eyes remained on the report in front of her. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Roy relaxed and sat back a bit, slightly appeased, and then she looked back up at him, smirk firmly in place. “It would be a sin to miss Gracia’s homemade cake, sir.”
Her attitude did not change at all the whole day, not even slipping when he tried to sneak up behind her in the cafeteria. When he’d peered over her shoulder under the guise of stealing a grape from her lunch, he’d murmured into her ear, “Nothing at all for my birthday, Riza?”
She had remained quite firm in her almost amicable response. “Nothing at all, sir,”
By the time his dinner at Gracia’s had rolled around that evening, he was almost anxious about whatever Riza was planning - though it had never occurred to him once to try to put a stop to it - and as he dressed for dinner he wondered vaguely if she really hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday. It seemed almost unthinkable - to him, anyway - and yet Riza was not to type to tell a lie, not even a playful one.
Was it some type of punishment for an as-of-yet unknown crime against her? Possible, but unlikely. Riza usually made it perfectly clear when he had done something wrong, and more than once he’d received a neatly typed, perfectly outlined report detailing exactly what he had done and how he could atone for it. (Havoc had been aghast when he’d stumbled across one by accident, but Roy rather favored the system. It took away that awful “guess what I’m feeling” stuff that scorned women seemed so fond of playing at.)
Still, it seemed even more unlikely that she’d let his birthday pass without any sort of acknowledgement or gift, and he found himself intensely curious even as they sat around the dinner table, laughing at Elysia and trading stories with Havoc and ribbing on Fuery.
Riza sat unusually close to him; their chairs were right up next to each other and the pair were flush from thigh to knee. He was almost disappointed - she looked stunning in her simple navy skirt and grey and blue blouse, and Roy would have relished the opportunity to drink in the sight of her from across the table.
His anxiety grew after they cut the cake and Elysia, in her excitement at all the brightly colored paper and shiny wrappers, insisted that Roy open his presents right there at the table in front of everyone. He balked, but Gracia was already up from the table and gathering them together, giving them to Elysia to hand over to Roy one-by-one as she chose.
Several new books, a new chess set, a couple vintage bottles of wine and several other assorted gifts later, Elysia informed him that the presents were all gone, and then, sorting through the cards, announced with childlike concern that she couldn’t find his present from Miss Hawkeye.
“Whadja get him?” Elysia asked interestedly, peering at Riza as she squeezed her way between the wall and the chairs where the pair was sitting to see where her mother had put the left-over cake.
“Nothing,” Riza answered with a shrug, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her index finger and her thumb.
“Nothing?!” Elysia demanded, her face morphing into indignant disbelief.
“She’s making that up, Elysia,” Havoc assured her before turning his attention to Roy instead of Riza. “What did Hawkeye get you?”
Roy coughed and went to adjust the napkin sitting in his lap. Riza chose that moment to seize his hand under the long tablecloth and drag it over to her lap, allowed him to feel the smooth skin of her thigh as she pulled his hand up, easily pushing her skirt out of the way as he ran out of leg and he felt…
Oh god. Oh god.
There was a rushing sound in his ears, and Roy wondered faintly if it was caused by his brains leaking out of his head.
“Well? What was her gift?” Havoc asked crossly, irritated at Roy’s hesitation.
Roy blinked and attempted to compose himself. “Nothing,” he answered, in complete honesty.
Rating: T
Pairing: Roy/Riza
Summary: It's Roy's birthday, and he'll just have to be content with nothing.
A/N: This is a silly, slightly naughty fic I wrote for
juxtaposie 's birthday back in July. Meant to take place in the future and generally assumes that eventually they’ll say “screw it” to those silly fraternization rules and that the way they act towards each other at work and in private will evolve accordingly. This is, in fact, my first attempt at real Roy/Riza fic so, you know. Judge accordingly.
He hated when she played coy, and by “hated” he meant he loved it even if he would never admit it to her. There were several things his Hawkeye was reliable for: being pragmatic and down-to-earth and generally one of the most trustworthy sources of unwavering steadiness in his life were among them.
It was his job to be the rakish cad, to be the smirking know-it-all who flirted relentlessly even if she rebuffed his every proposition in front of her fellow officers (and only because once they were alone he was fair game).
Their relationship had these very set rules: Roy, for all appearances, assumed the position of a dominant male while Riza sat patiently behind him and made it sickeningly obvious to anyone who observed the pair for all of two seconds exactly who had control of whom.
It always, therefore, came as a surprise whenever she acted like a flirt, throwing him dangerously off-balance, forcing him to scramble and catch up with her, while secretly enjoying these moments when Riza really let herself act publicly as something more than a mildly put-upon lieutenant and her raffish commanding officer. They still had enemies in the military, and their bond had been used against them before. Riza rarely allowed the act to slip, no matter how much Roy enjoyed it.
When she blew into the office that blustery fall morning, Roy watched her carefully as she removed her coat and hung it up, smoothing her shirt sleeves and hair and grimacing as she looked at the inbox sitting on her desk.
“Today’s my birthday, you know,” he tossed out casually as she approached his desk to sort through his paperwork before tackling hers. Tilting his head sideways to look up at her, he inched forward, allowing his shoulder to brush her hip. “Did you get me a present?” he murmured, just barely loud enough to be heard by anyone else in the room.
She looked down at him; one side of her mouth was quirked up in a playful, knowing grin, and Roy felt a kind of elation light up in his chest at the lightning fast realization that he was one of very few people who got to see such a smile. “I’m afraid, sir, that I’ve completely forgotten what day it was.” Her tone was cheerfully unapologetic, and he felt the smile drop off his face as if a weight had been attached. “I’ve been very busy lately so…” her tone dropped, indicating that her words were for him only. “You’ll just have to be content with nothing.”
It always, always threw him off when she acted like this. She sat down primly at her desk, lopsided smile still in place, and proceeded to start working, entirely ignoring the look on his face that rather resembled a gasping goldfish.
“…You’ll at least be at Gracia’s tonight for my birthday dinner?” he blurted out, a touch of petulance in his voice.
Her eyes remained on the report in front of her. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
Roy relaxed and sat back a bit, slightly appeased, and then she looked back up at him, smirk firmly in place. “It would be a sin to miss Gracia’s homemade cake, sir.”
Her attitude did not change at all the whole day, not even slipping when he tried to sneak up behind her in the cafeteria. When he’d peered over her shoulder under the guise of stealing a grape from her lunch, he’d murmured into her ear, “Nothing at all for my birthday, Riza?”
She had remained quite firm in her almost amicable response. “Nothing at all, sir,”
By the time his dinner at Gracia’s had rolled around that evening, he was almost anxious about whatever Riza was planning - though it had never occurred to him once to try to put a stop to it - and as he dressed for dinner he wondered vaguely if she really hadn’t gotten him anything for his birthday. It seemed almost unthinkable - to him, anyway - and yet Riza was not to type to tell a lie, not even a playful one.
Was it some type of punishment for an as-of-yet unknown crime against her? Possible, but unlikely. Riza usually made it perfectly clear when he had done something wrong, and more than once he’d received a neatly typed, perfectly outlined report detailing exactly what he had done and how he could atone for it. (Havoc had been aghast when he’d stumbled across one by accident, but Roy rather favored the system. It took away that awful “guess what I’m feeling” stuff that scorned women seemed so fond of playing at.)
Still, it seemed even more unlikely that she’d let his birthday pass without any sort of acknowledgement or gift, and he found himself intensely curious even as they sat around the dinner table, laughing at Elysia and trading stories with Havoc and ribbing on Fuery.
Riza sat unusually close to him; their chairs were right up next to each other and the pair were flush from thigh to knee. He was almost disappointed - she looked stunning in her simple navy skirt and grey and blue blouse, and Roy would have relished the opportunity to drink in the sight of her from across the table.
His anxiety grew after they cut the cake and Elysia, in her excitement at all the brightly colored paper and shiny wrappers, insisted that Roy open his presents right there at the table in front of everyone. He balked, but Gracia was already up from the table and gathering them together, giving them to Elysia to hand over to Roy one-by-one as she chose.
Several new books, a new chess set, a couple vintage bottles of wine and several other assorted gifts later, Elysia informed him that the presents were all gone, and then, sorting through the cards, announced with childlike concern that she couldn’t find his present from Miss Hawkeye.
“Whadja get him?” Elysia asked interestedly, peering at Riza as she squeezed her way between the wall and the chairs where the pair was sitting to see where her mother had put the left-over cake.
“Nothing,” Riza answered with a shrug, twirling the stem of her wine glass between her index finger and her thumb.
“Nothing?!” Elysia demanded, her face morphing into indignant disbelief.
“She’s making that up, Elysia,” Havoc assured her before turning his attention to Roy instead of Riza. “What did Hawkeye get you?”
Roy coughed and went to adjust the napkin sitting in his lap. Riza chose that moment to seize his hand under the long tablecloth and drag it over to her lap, allowed him to feel the smooth skin of her thigh as she pulled his hand up, easily pushing her skirt out of the way as he ran out of leg and he felt…
Oh god. Oh god.
There was a rushing sound in his ears, and Roy wondered faintly if it was caused by his brains leaking out of his head.
“Well? What was her gift?” Havoc asked crossly, irritated at Roy’s hesitation.
Roy blinked and attempted to compose himself. “Nothing,” he answered, in complete honesty.