[Author] Mara D
[Series] Fullmetal Alchemist
[Rating] R But I will call it NC17 for good measure. NOT WORK SAFE AT ALL.
[Spoilers?] Not unless you don't know who Lust is.
[Chatter] Holy Crap! This is my first yuri ever. Please don't kill me! :hides: I will say this once again just to be sure that no one gets blindsided: THIS IS A YURI OMGWTFBBQ. Wow. And a kind of..weird one at that. If you don't like it, throw things at VWL. It's all her fault! SHE MADE ME. <3
PS: I don't know if Yuri is allowed here, if it isn't, Mods, please feel free to delete.
She sat in her bathrobe, sleek and wet gold flowing over the shoulder, dampening the fabric at her back. At least she didn’t smell like sweat anymore. It had been a long hot summer day at the offices, the air conditioning was broken, and she had been forced to strip down to her undershirt and uniform pants to avoid heat stroke. That of course had drawn the attention of every leg humping maniac in the office. That was honestly, most of them. She sighed in irritation and took another sip of tea.
Men utterly lacked discipline.
Especially her man.
Roy Mustang. He was only her man, she mused, because he wanted nothing to do with her at all. Well, he did love her with all he had, just not in the way she wanted him to. That did not improve her mood. Especially when, today of all days, he had chosen to ask her out to lunch.
She knew why too.
Fullmetal had been to the office, and she had seen the hungry way he had watched that leather covered ass like it was the holy grail of sexual fantasy. Roy Mustang was still fighting, but was a man going down swinging. She shuddered to think what might happen to him if he finally figured himself out and then made a pass at the younger man. If he didn’t end up in traction, he would end up court-martialed. Riza realized then with a start that she would defend him all the way to prison too, despite it all. What made him happy, made her happy too.
He might tell himself that he was contented with her, but in the end, he would come to the same conclusion that Riza had, just much too late for Riza to survive the pain. The truth was that he only had eyes for Fullmetal. That didn’t mean Riza didn’t love him loyally, without the slightest of hesitations. That didn’t mean that Riza didn’t hurt so bad she could hardly see.
She lowered her head wearily, taking another sip of tea.
Hayate, who had been sleeping on her feet, sat up and cocked an ear at her.
She smiled down at the animal, scratching the top of his head indulgently while his tail tapped on the floor a few times in canine worry and love.
“Go on.” She said softly. “You aren’t trapped in this place, go outside and play.” She told him, pushing him toward his doggie door. He gave her another worried look again, but just for a moment before he yapped once in excitement, scrambling towards the door as he was bidden.
And then she was alone.
The clock ticked, and the sliding glass doors that lead out to her patio were wide open in the night wind. The cool breeze ruffled the curtains, and Riza realized that half of her mood had to have something to do with the heat. She loosened the tie on her robe, finding the fabric cloying in the summer heat, and let herself out onto the fenced in garden.
It was a small and private patio, but she had been tending roses here so that it wasn’t completely barren. They were blooming now, in June, and the smell of them was heady and thick. She closed her eyes, tilting her face up towards the moon and held her arms out to the side, the breeze teased the robe around her legs, lifting the hem to an almost obscene height while the night wind tangled in her wet hair and cooled the sweat between her breasts.
That was better.
There was a soft sound then, one that she rarely heard but had come to appreciate. /Her/ voice.
“Surely you waste yourself on him…humans get but one lifetime of beauty.”
Riza was somehow not surprised as she turned towards the woman in black. She watched her kneel, feline grace, allowing more than a decent amount of leg to show as she plucked a rose from one of the nearby bushes while her dark hair danced enticingly in the wind. The owner of that voice smelled the flower softly, and then brushed the tip of a warm pink tongue out to taste a drop of dew from one of the petals.
It was a tiny and very sensual gesture.
She had fought the woman before, had struggled with her, had shot her. She had dug her fingers into the pale column of that throat and squeezed just before she had put a hole in that very pretty face with her handgun.
No matter how she played this game of chess between them, no matter how she denied this, no matter how she fought…it had come down to this. Lust was a homunculus. Lust was the enemy. Lust just kept coming back. And Riza didn’t really mind.
Deep down, Riza didn’t hate the woman. She couldn’t. Homunculi were supposed to be monsters, she knew that all too well. Had she not wet her hands in this being’s heart’s blood and still…still she was alive? And frightening human despite her immortality. A homunculus did not ask to be created any more than a baby asked to be born…and that was the ground that had opened the gate between them, much to Riza’s guilt.
They had talked.
At first at gunpoint, but then Lust had found, inadvertently, that spot inside of Riza that was so very vulnerable. And instead of reaching inside Riza, instead of pulling and tearing, she had caressed it.
Lust had been made from love, to love…a greedy love, but love. And since the being had been damned with the name of Lust, she had had no reason to feel the emotion at all. She had understood where Riza stood all too well.
To live but never be allowed to feel.
They had made love before, that warm mouth and those expert fingers giving something Riza had never had before. Release. Passion. Riza had had men, but they were nothing like this. They never cared if she felt pleasure. None of them ever had. If they had made any pretenses, it had been for bragging rights alone. Riza did not date any men, because all men wanted to was conquer.
She prided herself on not being an easy catch. Even for Lust. After all, she was betraying everything and everyone she stood for by being with the woman, and yet…Lust always found a way to convince her. This was of course, part of the game between them that operated on a trust that was strangely instinctive.
Some lines were never crossed, and some were irrevocably shattered every time.
“I could no more stop loving him than I could stop breathing.” Riza said softly.
“Humans are made cheaply, it is a simple matter to stop breathing.”
“That is not what I meant.” Riza said dangerously. “How long have you been watching?!”
“Long enough.” Lust said softly, swaying towards Riza on long and milky legs.
Riza watched her, and she wasn’t ashamed to do it. If she showed any disgrace at all in herself, this game would be over. She needed this challenge. She needed this game.
“A rose may fade…but the memories of the rose…those never do…what will you do then my star…what will you do when age twists you frail and he has long left you? When all of your dreams die?”
“I will remember that I felt.” She said sharply. “That I was loyal. That should be enough for you.”
“Loyalty…but to never feel wanted? To never feel…lust? Love is fine, but it is not a satisfying dish without a little…spice…”
A manicured fingernail slid up the soft skin between Riza’s breasts.
“He will never love me.” She said honestly.
“So you admit that? What now then?” That low voice purred sweetly. Lust was teasing the rose now, tracing from Riza’s knee to the inside of her thigh, just where the edge of her robe stopped and the breeze hitched the edge a bit higher, almost as though it too bent to Lust’s will.
“I will do what I must…I am not a dead thing. I feel.” Riza said, her voice throaty and trembling with emotion and the sensations of Lust’s teasing.
“What do you feel?” Lust asked, leaning forward until her lips ghosted over Riza’s, just a brush.
Riza still was frozen, eye half lidded. She was a beautiful woman, and her body itself was her weapon. Her desire was her weapon against the world, against Lust. She hated this woman, hated her because she looked inside Riza, and saw where she was dying. Saw it and forced Riza to face it, to clutch her future in her own hands instead of relying on a someday that would never come.
She licked her lips, and made a sound low in her throat as she reached for the sash of her robe, pulling it untied.
The wind rid her of the garment with only the slightest motion of her arms. This let her thrust her breasts forward proudly.
She stood with neck arched, the cool silk of her hair dampening the skin of her breasts, bringing her nipples to full hardness.
She froze there, the wind caressing her proud form as she struggled to breathe against the increasingly loud demands of her body. She was a woman, and she was not yet dead.
She did not flinch when she felt Lust’s hands on her, stroking the flat planes of her belly, stroking to the beginning of the thick golden curls that hid her from view. One hand moved, cupping there knowingly, the other coming up to stroke just across her nipple, making Riza make that sound yet again.
“I lust…” Riza said lowly just before she brought her hands to the other woman’s hips, stroking low enough that she could slide her hands up under the slits of the dress and ride the fabric up, partially mirroring Lust’s gesture against her own body.
The rose fell to the ground, forgotten as mouths met, slick and wet, lipstick and shower clean dampness.
Cross posted to: jadedsilk fma_yuri