Roy Mustang And Riza Hawkeye One Shots LEMON/SMUT

Gloves-Roy Discovers His Gloves In Riza's Closet

Riza's P.O.V.

I drop the last file onto the sizeable stack in the middle of my coffee table and sit back on my sofa. Whoever these guys are, they're good. Too good. The colonel and I have been trying to find something—anything on them for two weeks, and we still don't have a single name or hint at their identities.

"I think we should call it a night," Mustang mutters from his seat across from me, and I lift my head to look at him. "We're not getting anywhere."

His deep voice is laced with frustration and defeat, and I wilt inside. I hate seeing him like this.

"There's something we're missing," I tell him with more confidence than I feel. "It's just somewhere we haven't looked yet. It'll come to us, sir."

"Yeah." He nods once, unconvincingly. "But until then, you should get some sleep."

"It's…" I look over at the clock. "Past one. You shouldn't be driving this late."

He sighs and runs his hand over his face wearily. "Maybe so, but I can't very well sleep here, can I?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," I remind him softly, the air in the room changing suddenly.

He looks up at me, and I see something spark in his eyes before it fades quickly.

"We agreed that had to stop," he says quietly. "There's too much at stake."

My heart sinks a little, even though I know he's right. I shouldn't have said anything, but…sometimes I feel so desperate for his affection I can't stop myself.

"Of course, sir," I murmur, lowering my eyes.

"I'll go ahead and get out of here," he announces, standing and reaching for his coat. He stops suddenly, and glances down the hall. "Actually, I'm just going to borrow your bathroom first. If that's okay."

"Uh, no. I mean, yes. That's fine," I stumble horribly over my words. "Go ahead."

He gives me a tired glance and disappears down the hall. While he's gone, I grab one of his folders and look through it again. As if I'll find something he missed. Normally, that would be a possibility, but with the amount of times we've scoured these, it's a futile pursuit.

"Riza…"

I blink and look up to find him staring at some white fabric in his hands.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"I was washing my hands when I found…" His eyes meet mine, and I realize his face is twisted in confusion and…anger? I peek again at his hands, and my heart stops.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no. He wasn't supposed to—

"Why do you have these, Lieutenant?"

My mouth feels parched, and when I start to talk, my tongue doesn't want to work. Like it's made of sandpaper. "I…I took them, sir," I choke out.

"Why?" He glares. "What purpose do you have for my alchemy gloves?"

I feel my face flush red, and I look away.

"Riza?"

"I wear them–" I pause and take a quick breath before whispering quickly, "I wear them when I t-touch myself."

He's silent, and I'm worried he's furious with me. I wouldn't blame him. I took his gloves without asking, and he's…possessive about that kind of thing.

"Show me."

I blink, not comprehending at first. "What?"

"Show me," he repeats, his voice low and thick with…sex.