Roy Mustang And Riza Hawkeye One Shots LEMON/SMUT

Burning-Teenage Riza and Roy

Riza's P.O.V

Holding my glass of water close to my chest, I tiptoe up the stairs. I'm not supposed to be up this late. If Daddy hears me... I shudder and take a slow breath to relax my nerves. When I reach the top, I keep tiptoeing down the hall. My room is at the end. Fortunately, Mom and Daddy's room is the other direction, so that limits the chances of me getting caught. I feel my muscles in my neck relax when my hand finally curls around the knob. Almost safe.

Something moves behind me, and I jump, spilling the water down the front of my nightdress. I start to panic. I'm up past curfew. And I made a mess on the floor. Oh God. I close my eyes and try to swallow the fast-growing lump of tears in my throat.

A hand lands on my shoulder, and I whimper. This is it.

"Riza?"

I blink and look up at the person beside me.

"Roy," I whisper, disbelief threaded in my voice. "It's just you?"

He frowns at me and narrows his eyes before stealing a glance down the hall.

"Of course," he answers softly, his deep voice making me warm all over. "Who else would be up this late?"

"Me, apparently," I mutter, ducking my head shyly.

"Shit. You're all wet."

I look down at my soaked front and let out a squeak before bringing my arms up to cover my chest. The thin white material of my gown is basically see-through now, not to mention it's stuck to my skin. To really top things off, I'm not wearing a bra or undershirt of anything, so my hard nipples and their surrounding dark areolas are basically highlighted.

"Come with me," he murmurs gently. "I'll get you cleaned up."

"I need to change," I eke out, avoiding his eyes.

But he knows. I don't know how exactly, except maybe he's seen me doing the laundry, but he knows. This is my only nightdress.

"You can borrow one of my shirts. It's okay, Riza."

He pulls me close, taking the forgotten glass out of my hand, and guides me across the hall into his room, where he shuts the door.

"Thirsty?" he calls to me as he crosses to his desk and sets the glass down.

"A bit," I whisper, hugging myself tighter now that the glass isn't in my way.

"You don't have to by shy, Riza. It's okay." He turns toward me and nods at my covered body.

"No, it isn't," I hiss. "It's embarrassing."

"Why?" he counters softly. "Because you're a woman?"

I feel my face go up in flames at the same time the place between my legs tingles.

"Yes," I answer honestly. "And you're a man."

His fingers grab my chin and tilt my head back, forcing me to look at him.

"That's true," he murmurs. "I am definitely a man, and I like what I see. You're beautiful. Your body is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"It's not that," I choke, trying to turn my head.

"What then?" He leans his head down and looks up at me questioningly.

"I just... You make me... I don't..." I raise a shaky hand to push back the hair on my forehead before I remember and quickly snap it back around my chest.

"Riza?"

"I like you," I admit weakly.

"I like you, too," he laughs softly, and I want to cry.