Series Title: Games without Frontiers
Series Rating: PG - NC-17
Main Character:Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye
Other Characters: Various other members of the Peanut Gallery called Fullmetal Alchemist
Warning potential overdosing of crrrrack.
Synopsis: The game has changed and now Roy has to rearrange the pieces.
Author's Notes: AU/Non Canon. My own little private timeline; my own private little world. Yeah, and, just to add, my own little crackpot theories. Nothing else related to any episode of any kind, except the usage of the character(s) in question, though some events in some episodes will be used out of context as artistic license. I try not to make the events I use too spoilerish, but if I can’t help it, you’ll get a warning. Commentary is certainly welcome and tends to make me go “you like me! you really like me!”
Each chapter is titled after a lyric in a song that was part of the soundtrack I have for this tale. Check the current music for the song.
Roy woke up all at once. Not from the nightmare that usually drove him from his bed, panting and sweating. It was the sensation that he was in a strange place, in a strange bed, which drove him from sleep. He was breathless, but that wasn’t from the fear that usually chased him into the waking world.
It was because of the lips that were slowly, curiously trailing all over his skin. Little, tiny kisses, experimental nips, lighting in random spots, that sent little shivers telegraphing through him. He raised his head just enough to look. So, it hadn’t been a dream, or some drunken fantasy played out in that old, dark library.
She was really there. Or rather, he was really here.
He dropped his eyes to half-mast, so she wouldn’t realize he was completely awake. Because he didn’t want to startle her, send her back behind that wall she’d built for herself. He wanted to see how far she would go with this exploration.
She was sitting beside him, her body limned in shadow. Her hands would touch a spot on his body – picking out scars, he realized – then her lips would descend, tracing the lines gently, softly.
And it was driving him completely, utterly, mind-melting mad. His brain was starting to misfire on all levels, the closer she got to his second brain, and she was moving with all of her usual determination toward that one spot that was the most important spot to any male in the entire world.
Please hurry up, please hurry up, he started to chant to himself, because he wasn’t sure he could stay still for very much longer.
She sat up and stared at him for so long he thought he would die. What the hell was she doing already? Working out an attack plan?
Riza (Riza, his brain said in wonder) reached out a hand. Roy closed his eyes, praying that she would stop the torture. He felt her fingers touch him, encircle him cautiously, tighten hesitantly. Unbidden, a groan escaped his lips, and her hand was snatched away.
“No...” he moaned at the release, then cleared his throat, trying for a little of sanity. “Go ahead. Touch me. Please.” He hadn’t really meant for that last to sound so desperate, but dammit, he was desperate.
Normally, he would spend his time with a woman on his terms. Dinner, drinks, whatever he decided would make a good preamble, then straight to someplace discreet. He would do what he wanted to the woman, make her scream, claw, whatever he could do, then he would leave. Maybe he would call her back, maybe he wouldn’t.
As the trembling hand circled him again, he thought that perhaps he would be happy never to leave this bed again. He could do his paperwork from here, take phone calls from here, and perform all of his usual tasks from here.
“Soft...” he heard her say, slowly. “And... hard.” He watched her turn her head and look at him, and gave up any pretense of being half-asleep. He had no reply for her. Could just lay there and stare at her and hope that she knew what she was doing. Because anything connected with his cock had to be handled with great care and much delicacy.
She ran her hand up and down his length so slow. Too slow. Exploring, experimenting. And he had to lay there and be patient because this was Riza, his Riza, and he couldn’t mess this up by being a clod. The girl had risked too much to have him do something stupid. Even though he wanted to scream at her to hurry up already and get him off.
No. He didn’t want her to just get him off. He wanted her to (his mind actually cringed) make love to him. He just wanted her to hurry up and get to it, before his head exploded.
“I’ve heard that putting that in my mouth would be a good thing to do for you,” she suddenly said.
Hell yes, it would be a good thing for me! Very good, yes indeedy. His mind was a gibbering mess. Please, miss, may I have some more? “Only...only if you want to....” What? What had he just said?
“I’m not sure the whole thing will fit.”
“I assure you, that feat has been accomplished.”
He saw the doubt on her face even in the half-darkness. But she still turned back to him and lowered her head. Her lips surrounded him in soft warmth and he wanted to die. No, he didn’t want to die, he wanted to live forever, and just lie there and experience this sensation over and over again. His joy was short-lived. As soon as he touched the back of her throat, it was over.
She scrambled away from him as if he’d bitten her.
“Perhaps...not,” he said carefully wincing as he envisioned the rest of his evening, and much of the next day, spent in total blue-balled agony.
“No, don’t....” he started to sit up, when she placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. He watched her, wondering what could possibly be going through the complicated head of hers. She sat up and swung a leg over him, straddling him. Before this was over, he thought, he was going to have a heart attack. Or an aneurysm. Or a heart attack/aneurysm double team. “Riza…”
“Hush. Just let me....”
“Oh, God.” Second time he’d called for the Unbelievable. Maybe he’d been wrong all this time and there was a God somewhere that smiled on him.
“Yes? That’s right?” She whispered as she took his length, positioned it just right and slowly slid over him. Her head fell back slowly and she hissed.
He reached up and grasped her hips, hoping that hadn’t been a hiss of pain. He didn't think he could stand another eviction speech. There was no way she knew what to do next, so he guided her, slowly at first, until she got the rhythm, then with increasing speed, until he could finally let go and grasp handfuls of the sheet in both fists and hang on for dear life.
She braced her hands in the middle of his chest and moved, wrapping around him like a warm summer day. All of his feeling centered on his dick and how nice and warm it felt inside of her. Up and down and again and again and he could feel his head thrashing and it wasn’t going to last long he knew this, and he grasped her hips again and held her down tight as he came, arched tight and twisting, taking her with him with a long, low growl.
She collapsed across him and he held her there, running a hand negligently down the long line of her back, stopping at each little patch of scar with a tinge of remembrance. Again he wondered how it was that he was in this situation.
She had certainly given him no indication that she’d even had an interest in him beyond the professional. Not crisp and cold little Riza, a proper First Lieutenant in all ways. What had convinced her to finally make this wild play? And exactly who had told her that he’d been in that library, drinking his brains out, and wishing he were dead. Again.
He could only think of a few people who knew him well enough, and one of them was in his arms at that very moment. The other one... well, he wouldn’t have done such a thing. Would he?
“Riza,” he said, still hoarse.
She lifted her head and looked at him.
“Who sent you to me?”
She lowered her head back into the crook of his neck. “Circumstances sent me,” she mumbled from that safe spot.
Damn. If she promised not to tell, then it would take more than just a question from him to get it out of her.
“This is not a safe thing that we do,” she said, and squirmed.
He let her go and she rolled over to the side, to lay on the bed next to him. She had curves. Genuine curves. “No it’s not,” he said, “It goes against more regulations than even I know about. Actually, it only goes against one major regulation. Primarily, fraternization between a superior and his or her subordinate.”
He could hear the gears in her mind again. “That’s a major regulation.”
“Punishable by anything from strong censure to court-martial and dishonorable discharge.”
Dishonorable discharge. That would destroy any chance of achieving his ambition. “You could lose your status as a State Alchemist.”
And he would lose his watch. And with that, just about everything. Well, perhaps not everything. “But if no one were to find out...”
“Someone is bound to find out,” she said simply.
Ever sensible Hawkeye. He knew she would rear her proper little head sooner or later. He sat up against her headboard. “Okay, so someone is bound to find out. Who? I'm not planning on babbling to the whole world about this.”
She looked at him. He could see the list of his conquests in her brain; the ones he'd come bouncing into the office to brag about at the top of his lungs.
"Well. I'm not. Anyway, who could possibly find out?"
“Havoc came damn close. Thanks to you.”
“You’re going to rub that in aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. It was stupid.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“What?” She sat up and pulled the sheet around her. No, he thought, don’t hide from me. “This entire...plan was stupid. We could lose everything if someone finds out. You could never move further up the ranks to reach what you want, to do what you want.”
“You keep saying if someone finds out,” he said, cutting through her speech, suddenly inspired. “But... what if the right someone finds out?”
She stared at him. “What do you mean?”
“I am surrounded by loyal people, Riza. You included.”
She rolled her eyes.
“No, listen to me. If I told any of them to keep their mouths shut they would. You know they would. The last thing they would want would be my downfall, because then where would they be?”
“Somewhere else,” she muttered.
He pretended not to hear her pessimism. “If one of them found out, and we had an extra person running interference, it might just work.”
She was staring at him with that look. That look that told him he’d just said something supremely stupid and he should just go soak his head. He hadn’t realized how sexy it would look coming from her while she was clothed in nothing but a rumpled sheet, with her hair a shambles and her face softened from hot, earth quaking sex.
“And if it doesn’t work?”
He heard what she was asking. She was doing that loud thinking again. Are you willing to risk everything that much just for me to stay in your bed, she was thinking. I can’t be worth that much risk. He heard it as if she shouted it in his face.
But, he realized, she was worth that much risk. Anyone who would take everything that she was inside and toss it over just to save his life – because that is exactly what she had done – was worth that much risk. She would never know how close he came to using that gun.
He’d picked it up. Ran his fingers over the cold, silvery gunmetal. He could feel the bullet waiting in the chamber, just like he could see the oxygen in the air around him. He even spent precious moments deciding whether it would go in his mouth, his chin or his temple.
Then the thought powered through his brain like a freight engine. I don’t want to have to pay for this.
Then he was here.
But, now was not the time to dwell on such things. Now was the time to convince her that she hadn’t made a terrible mistake. Because that was the other thing she was thinking, what was sitting behind her eyes waiting to strike.
His eyes darted to the window as he caught the first faint light of sunrise. Damn. There was no more time to talk right this moment.
She followed his gaze, then sighed. “We have work.”
She stared at him, unable to fathom what else to say. He hated the look, but he knew if they failed to show up on time, there would be hell to pay and much to explain.
“All right. This is not over. I’m not going to leave it like this.” He announced.
”She tilted a look on him. “Why? Why can’t you just treat me like those other women, and just forget this happened?”
Because. “Are you crazy?” he asked her again. “No, scratch that. You are crazy. I can’t do that!”
“Because...because it’s you.”
She blushed. Actually blushed. “I think you’re crazy.”
“I’m aware of that,” he said with a smile.
He saw her relent then, and give him a keen look. “Fine. You use your brilliant State Alchemist’s mind to figure a way to make this work. You have a week.”
He blinked, not sure he heard her right. “What?”
“You have seven days to figure out how this,” she waved her hands expansively, “is going to work.”
“You’re giving me a time limit?”
“Of course. We can’t let this thing drag on forever. If you can’t figure it out in a week, we forget all about it and continue on as we have before.”
The little bitch. He grinned, even as he swung out of the bed. There was his Hawkeye. She knew exactly what she was doing, throwing down the gauntlet like that. There was no way he was going to fail now, not now that she had challenged him. He scooped up the towel from the floor and wrapped it around his waist, smiling at her the whole time. “You’re on, Lieutenant,” he said. “Now. How would it look if you – the great Riza Hawkeye – were late for work?”
She stared, mouth agape.
“It wouldn’t look good on your record if you were late for work. I would hate to have to... discipline you for gross dereliction of duty.” He bowed and gestured toward the bathroom.
She threw a pillow in his face and called him something she would never dare call him during the progress of her duty.
She knew him so well.