A/N: This was kind of unexpected lol but here is some light, lime-y Royai stuff. Pucker up!

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Can You Feel It

Riza Hawkeye was well-known for her stoicism and conservative nature. Anyone who knew of her wouldn't necessarily predict that she was deeply humored by the simple things and surely the day she released a real, honest-to-goodness laugh was the day that hell itself shriveled up and froze over. Most people weren't even sure that she was capable of a smile. Too much sorrow in her mysterious past, was the word in the grapevine; no room left for joy.

At least, that's what anyone who wasn't Roy Mustang might think.

He knew her backwards and forwards, up and down, side to side, in and out. He knew how the creases in the palms of her hands felt against his, knew the heat of her breath when she leaned in close to murmur details of a military case, knew the sound of her footsteps when she entered the room. He even knew the low alto tone of her voice when she hummed under her breath - a true rarity - on only the most weightless days, the two of them in the office trying to finish the mandatory paperwork that hadn't yet been completed.

But he refused to think of her laughter less as the day hell froze over and more like the day the gates of heaven were thrown wide open.

"Stop squirming," she said in exasperation, though he detected an audible note of humor in her voice. "I can't help you if you keep acting so skiddish."

"But it's cold," he muttered, trying to maintain what little dignity he had left. He refused to whine in front of this woman.

"No, sir, it's room temperature," she corrected in her usual manner, rubbing the green jelly-like substance between her hands. "Now hold still before you make me do something you regret."

That he would regret? That didn't sound very pleasant at all. "Lieutenant, I'm highly capable of handling this on my - "

"With all due respect, Colonel, you'd sooner walk around and mindlessly irritate it than medicate your skin. The office cannot afford for you to get an infection from a silly sunburn."

He grumbled to himself but she made it terribly hard to refute her reasoning and preventing this further would only bring more humiliation upon him. Not that he really had much shame left, spread out topless with this face pressed into the carpet of his hotel room. Besides, this was Hawkeye, his Lieutenant, his childhood friend Riza. She'd seen him in much more compromising positions than this before and vice versa.

She made a contented sigh in the back of her throat and then her hands were on his back. He let out a startled cry at the icy shock of it, but her fingers were gentle, and those creases he knew so well brought comfort to his back after his heated skin had adjusted to the temperature of the medicine.

Her hands slowing, but not losing their direction, she spoke with something of a smile in her voice. "You incorrigible idiot." Fingers light, almost dancing now, beginning to wander down his back to where his skin wasn't quite as sensitive. "Why wouldn't you just let me put the sunscreen on?"

Roy swallowed and turned his head to the side, his sunburned cheek pressing to the rough carpet pattern. He ignored the pain, remembering yesterday when he and his team had been sent to the beach of the popular lake to do surveillance on a group of people suspected to be smuggling illegal drugs from Xing. They'd had to look like tourists so the men on Mustang's team - including the commanding officer himself - had been in shorts and sunglasses while Riza wore a pair of cropped pants at the knees and a loose tank top, a large brimmed hat casting shade over the creamy complexion of her face.

Mustang's contingents who weren't wearing a shirt had allowed Riza to put the sunscreen on their backs where they couldn't reach; forever filling the role of mom on a team of unorganized, energetic young men. But when she'd gotten to her superior, he point-blankly refused to have her touch his bare skin at all.

She'd been put off by it, almost offended, but several choice expletives had drummed with the pulse of his blood in his brain whenever he looked at her. For the first time in a very long time, Roy was seeing his lovely lieutenant as she would have been had she not joined the military; perhaps it was how she would have looked when he returned from Ishval and married her.

He couldn't let her touch him. Any contact upon the skin that she hadn't traced her delicate patterns on in weeks, the notes she left with the silent melodies of her fingers, like sheet music for an instrument only she knew how to play, would be his absolute undoing. And this was military business, not a vacation; he had to keep it professional.

When she'd bitingly suggested that Havoc do it for him at least, Mustang's refusal turned into a straight and obstinate no. To get her off his back - almost literally - he promised her that he didn't burn easily but of course she knew that was a lie. Had she not treated sunburns he used to get at the swimming hole as a child in the summers he studied alchemy with her father? Those details, however, seemed to have slipped his mind. The only reason Riza let him get away with his sheer impracticality was to be able to tell him exactly what her silence said now.

I told you so.

It was even worse that she was much too smug to say it out loud.

"I didn't want you to touch me," he finally sighed gracelessly. Her hands were on the small of his back now, far from the sensitive, sunburned back, and yet they kept moving gently over his skin.

She huffed but the amusement remained. "Should I stop touching you now?"

"No."

A beat of silence and then she was chuckling. "You'd rather suffer a sunburn than have me rub a bit of sunscreen across your shoulders. Colonel Mustang, sir, you are such a dork." The chuckling grew louder and her hands began to still. "Afraid that you can't control yourself for five seconds." She was no longer moving now and he looked over his shoulder in utter disbelief as she tossed her head back and laughed. "What, were you gonna tackle me in the sand and shed all decency completely?"

His eyes widened as she shook, air hiccupping unevenly as she laughed with total abandon. He'd heard her laugh - in fact, he took pride that he was the only thing aside from her dog who could make her do that - but never, ever like this. Turning onto one forearm, he leaned back to watch her but their eyes met and impossibly, she was shuddering even harder. It was probably the strangest, most beautiful thing he ever saw.

The sounds she was making were inelegant, broken and astonishingly loud. It endeared her to him even more than before and then, suddenly, he was laughing too. They cackled until their sides were aching and tears were rolling down their face and Riza wasn't sure what kind of dam had cracked inside of her but it felt so good to sound so careless.

Coming down from her high, she wiped her face with the back of her wrists and grinned down at Roy, who was sprawled on his back now, his medicated and sunburned back pressing into the irritable fabric of the carpet. He looked content though, the happiness in his eyes bright as he looked up at her sitting there next to him.

Her grin remained as she squirted a little more medicine into her hands and then gently touched the red, angry skin of his nose and cheekbones. Her fingers were magic, playing that song against his skin with such skill and precision.

"I wanted to," he said as he reached up and took a few strands of her corn-colored hair between his fingers.

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Wanted to what?" Her hands slid down his face softly, caressing the corners of his jaw, before they were trailing with a feather touch over the skin of his neck and the hollows of his collar bones.

"To tackle you in the sand," he replied evenly, meeting her gaze.

Her hands ran across his chest lightly and then one began to trace the curve of his slight muscles across his arm, the other slowly moving back up to cup his face. He released her hair and let his hand fall back to the ground.

"Those are indecent thoughts, Colonel," she murmured, but he could feel the vibration of her voice in every cell of his body and he tensed a bit under her.

He smiled genuinely, his teeth a flash between perfect lips. "You should laugh more, Hawkeye."

She snorted. "My laughter is ugly."

"Yes," he agreed, which made her scowl. He chuckled and then elaborated, "But you've never looked happier."

He watched her consider this for a moment before she leaned a little closer to him. "All things considered, I'm happy now." Her hands moved to trap his wrists in her hold and she pressed them to the carpet. She smirked a bit as he visibly swallowed and tried to conjure up something appropriate to say but the only thing he could think was that her lips had a sheen of chapstick and she smelled like clean cotton.

His chin tilted up in anticipation but her lips pressed instead to the tip of his nose, slowly moving along to brush against his heated, sunburned skin. He relaxed under her, giving in to let her take what she wanted. Moments between them like this were almost unheard of, and they had work to do later tonight so the clandestine ticking of an imaginary clock was measuring out what little time they would have to themselves for today. He wanted to her be happy, to get what she wanted from this little bubble in time, right now.

"You ought to take better care of yourself, sir," she whispered as her lips drifted down to his jaw. "Don't be pig-headed about Havoc rubbing you down next time if you can't handle me. Your pride be damned."

"It's just a sunburn, Lieutenant," he mumbled as she began her way down the length of his throat. He trembled a little when he felt her tongue slip from her mouth and press lightly against his Adam's apple.

She sat back suddenly with a sparkle in her eye. "You're right. You could use the lesson anyway."

He sat up now too, her hands securing his palms to the floor, and their noses touched. "I'm happy now too," he told her quietly.

A smile appeared on her face, precious and entirely too rare, and he leaned forward to capture her lips against his. He took his time with her, though time was something neither one of them really had, and worked his mouth slowly to savor the moment. Her chapstick tasted like strawberries and he swept his tongue across her bottom lip lightly. She opened her mouth and tilted her head, pressing her chest into his and sighing at the contact. How she'd missed this; how she'd missed him.

He grunted in surprise as she swung a leg over him and straddled his hips, settling herself against him with ease and satisfaction. She released his hands but whispered, "No touching," against his mouth and turned her fingers to the bare expanse of his stomach. He wasn't bulky by any means, but the slight ridges against her palms tensed and coiled under her touch and she smiled as she turned her chin and began to move her lips down his jaw.

His breath was hot in her ear. "I thought I was the superior officer here."

She smiled and pressed her parted mouth just under the corner of his jaw. "You are," she whispered as she sighed breathlessly and then kissed his ear, her tongue tracing the rim of it.

He nudged the side of her head with his and then bent down to kiss the conjunction between her neck and her shoulder, letting his mouth linger. She was beginning to feel over dressed for the occasion so she sat back and smirked a little at him as she reached for the hem of her shirt and pulled it over her head, casting it aside.

"We're on duty," he reasoned softly, his eyes sweeping her torso in a very lazy and appreciative manner.

She shifted her hips against his, and oh, yes, that's exactly the reaction she was hoping for. "I wanted to tackle you in the sand yesterday too," she told him bluntly. His eyes widened and darkened, and she put her hands on her hips and tilted her head in a very alluring manner, motioning at the white cotton bra she was wearing. "Now would you like to do the honors or shall I?"

He chuckled at her and reached around her back for the clasp but she shook her head and sighed. Taking his wrists back into her hands she skimmed his palms along her side, over the swell of her breasts and then to the middle, where the clasp was nestled under her bust.

He cocked an eyebrow at her and grinned. "New bra?"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, you ruined one the last time and I had to compensate."

A self-serving and wholly satisfied smirk crawled across his face as he slid the straps down her shoulders and then threw the garment on top of her shirt. His arms then wrapped around her torso and he pulled her forward, burying his head in her chest and blowing a raspberry just below her sternum. She laughed lightly and he was pleased to note how often she'd made that sound in the last ten minutes, also excruciatingly aware that her hips rubbed against his with the movement.

Her hands ran through his hair as he dragged his tongue up her chest and neck, nibbling and kissing as he went along. The curves of his hands, slightly calloused, smoothed up her sides, one traveling around her back to caress her scars before gripping the back of her neck, the other slowly beginning to tease the nipple on her breast. She released a breathless moan and shifted her hips eagerly against his.

"I've missed you," he murmured, dragging his teeth along her neck gently.

"I've missed you too," she whispered.

There was a flurry of words and moans then, rushed and trembling hands rubbing against slick skin. Riza thought she would go crazy before it was over and she loved this; loved having this moment where it was just her and Roy and nothing else mattered, loved being able to love him. Their belt buckles were being unclasped by excitable fingers when there was a sudden knock at Roy's door.

Riza stifled a laugh at the absolute devastation on Mustang's face and reached up to pat his cheek lightly. "You said it yourself; we're on duty, sir."

The knocking became insistent.

"I'm coming!" Roy said irritably. She pressed one last kiss to the corner of his mouth and then stood, retrieving her clothes and slipping into the bathroom to hide until the visitors were gone.

He lumbered to the door bitterly and fixed his belt as he adjusted his pants to make the bulge less obvious. Then, he pulled open the door and tried to ignore the frustration as he spotted Havoc and Breda's shocked faces.

"Do you know where Hawkeye is?" Breda asked, his eyes narrowing at Roy's suspiciously disheveled appearance. "She told us she wanted to meet with us about tonight's plans but she's not in her room."

Havoc snickered and then looped his arm around Breda's neck, his eyes missing nothing. "Sorry, Chief," he said with a half-assed salute, "we forgot to check the swimming pool and the convenience store. We'll let you finish up whatever it is you were busy with."

Roy winced and yelped as Havoc patted his back and then dragged a protesting Breda down the hallway, sniggering around the unlit cigarette in his mouth the entire time.

Slamming the door and turning the lock once more, Roy turned to face the bathroom door where he could hear her bouts of ungainly laughter shoving out from under the cracks.

"What's so funny?" he demanded.

"They thought you were giving yourself a hand job," she snorted between chuckles, unable to help herself. Why was everything so funny today? Maybe it had something to do with the lack of a uniform or the change in scenery. Maybe someone had put something in her drink. Who the hell knew.

Roy opened the door to find her leaning against the wall, her hand pressed to her mouth as she tried to calm down. Her eyes zeroed in on his trapped erection, and illicit smile spreading across her face as she propped her hand on her hip and then met his indignant gaze.

"No worries, Colonel," she said slyly, "I'm afraid that I'm the weapons specialist here and it is my duty to make sure that all guns in the vicinity are firing properly."

He smirked at her then and walked forward to take her into the circle of his arms. "You'd better be thorough, Lieutenant," he muttered against her neck as his hand got rid of her belt and began to undo her zipper.

She smirked and licked his ear, figuring that the fifteen minutes Havoc and Breda would waste looking for her at the public areas of the hotel were all that she needed to finish what she started. "I intend to, sir."