A/N: So this is it! I figured I couldn't end a smut fic with a non-smut chapter, so I hope you like this epilogue! I finished my Royai week collection, but it feels so much more final to finish this, my first fic.

I had a great time writing it and I hope you'll enjoy it, and that you'll remember my name when you see my other fics pop up in the feed and give them a read too!

Thank you to everyone who has given my feedback and encouragement and support. And a special thank you to the reviewers, anonymous or no, who have been kind enough to brighten up my days with their kind words.

Please enjoy!

"Yes, hello!"

Roy pulled away to stand up straight, hair sticking out at odd angles and lips slightly swollen. He tried to quieten his panting breaths before continuing. "I have a table booked for this evening under the name Roy Mustang."

He barely registered the voice on the other end of the line uttering a chirp "One moment please" as he felt his shirt buttons being deftly loosed from their button-holes. As he tried to take a step back and gain some composure, the legs wrapped around his waist tightened, pulling him in tighter and causing him to buck his hips instinctively in response.

"8pm, that's the one. I'm afraid there is, I'm going to have to cancel it. I know, I'm very sorry and I ho- unh… I hope you can find someone to fill the spot. No, that won't be n-necessary. I'll call back and reschedule when I have a better grasp of my… calendar. Okay. Okaythanksbye." The phone gave a sharp tinny sound of protest as he slammed it into its cradle and returned his hands to the curve of her waist.

"You're killing me," he breathed before crushing his mouth against hers.

He pulled her by the hips so she was seated closer to the edge of the kitchen counter, trapping her with his own hips to keep her from slipping. She finished her work on his buttons as he grabbed at the fabric of her skirt. When she pushed his shirt off his shoulders, be broke the kiss to shake his arms free of the sleeves.

"They're going to ban me at this point," he panted, leaning in again to untuck her blouse from her skirt.

She responded with a laugh low in her throat before bringing her mouth to his chest and peppering kisses over his collarbone.

As he started clumsily fidgeting with her buttons, he bent down to capture her lips again. "I mean it." And again. "My picture will be up on their wall." And again. "With a sign saying 'Do Not Serve'".

She didn't seem to be taking his complaints seriously as she shrugged out of her blouse, unhooking her bra and dropping it at his feet.

They've been having an issue recently. Roy wasn't prepared to call it a 'problem' per se, but it was getting to the point where it may become an inconvenience.

It had been a week since he arrived at her apartment, sober and tired and ready to take a chance and kiss her. On the morning after the Fürher's inauguration, he woke up before her. He tightened his arms around her and ran a hand up and down her arm, feeling the soft fabric of her pyjama sleeve. When he felt fully awake, he slipped from the bed to her bathroom, searching through the cabinets until he found a spare toothbrush. He had only kissed her once, he wasn't going to let their second kiss be tainted with bad breath.

Exiting the bathroom, he took a minute to watch her sleeping form. She had worked herself ragged for weeks, and she earned her sleep. He slipped back into the bed as quietly as possible, but she stirred regardless, blinking slowly as her sleepiness began to wear off. Her face scrunched when she saw his face beside her, before her tired memory caught up with her and he could see the glint of recollection in her eyes.

"Hey," she rasped.

"Hey."

Lying there, her hair haloed on the pillow and looking so peaceful, his heart swelled. As he leaned in to kiss her, her hand came up to press on his chest, gently resisting him.

"I haven't brushed my teeth."

He smiled. "I don't care."

They made love gently that morning, with some weak protest from him ("I really do want to take you on a date first, you deserve to be treated right."). He worked through his light-headedness to try and catalogue every moment; every time her breath hitched, every time her eyes fell closed in pleasure, every time she ran her nails down his back. He brought them up gradually, building a pressure so deep-rooted and slow-building that the release lasted minutes. He looked into her eyes as she came with a sigh, and she looked back at him. They both smiled.

As he cleaned himself up and brought her a damp cloth, he told her he hadn't forgotten about that date, he knew just the place, he'd make them a reservation.

This was his third attempt.

At least we managed to get dressed for it, he thought idly as she began working on his belt buckle. The first two times, he nakedly tiptoed from the bedroom to the phone to relay the message that no, unfortunately something has come up, we'll have to reschedule. This time, he had shown up at her door adamant that he would not be cancelling again. He waited in her kitchen while she got out of her uniform and re-emerged in a white blouse and simple black pencil skirt. The outfit wasn't particularly special, it would have looked just as fitting in an office as it would in a restaurant, and Roy got the impression that this was done on purpose. If they were to be discovered, they could pass the whole thing off as an out-of-hours meeting rather than a date.

But watching her double-check her hair in the mirror, it suddenly hit Roy that he was taking her on a date. She had gotten dressed and there was a place picked out and a reservation under his name and he was really going to go on an honest-to-goodness date with Riza Hawkeye. And in that moment, he needed to have her.

That's what brought her legs around his waist as he lifted her from the floor. That's what had him stumbling to the phone as he carried her until he rested her on the kitchen counter. And now, that's what had him stepping out of his pants and pushing her skirt up further up her thighs with such fervor that he could barely register the sound of cloth ripping in the back of his mind.

"Bedroom," she panted.

And so he was walking again, stumbling and kissing her and trying to keep his mind clear enough to remember her order, instead of just pinning her against the nearest surface – horizontal or vertical – and making them both cry out in pleasure.

None of the urgency left him by the time he had her on her back in bed. Hand rubbing between her legs and mouth breaking free from hers to explore her chest, he cursed whoever it was that invented underwear, creating a barrier that wasted vital seconds between his body and hers.

When they finally freed themselves from the rest of their clothes, he stretched over her to reach her nightstand drawer and pull out a condom, moaning as her freedom from his touch spurred her hands to wander. When he had retrieved it, he playfully swatted her hand away from its exquisite ministrations on his cock and secured it in place.

As he entered her, he wished he could freeze time and stay in this moment; her eyelids squeezing shut, her breath catching before releasing a moan, the wet, tight warmth of her core surrounding him. It was ecstasy concentrate, distilled into one perfect moment that robbed his breath and set every nerve on fire.

He moved inside her with all of the concentration and restraint he could manage. Since their first time in this bed, they haven't been slow in their love-making, as if the lost years were desperate to be made up for within the next fifteen minutes. He tried to hold back, but he knew that this time would be no different as his hips bucked and struggled against his self-inflicted restraint.

Her breaths quickened and he timed his hips to match, taking her labored breaths and gradually turning them into sighs, until she was squirming beneath him and every exhale was a moan that vibrated through his body as he groaned his responses. When he felt her legs stiffen, he knew instinctively that she was close, but the warmth and pressure was already twisting in his gut and he worried that she might not be close enough, that she would outlast him.

Reaching behind her back until he had a good hold of her, he twisted them both until he was staring up at her, her hair spilling down her back as she found her balance above him. She adjusted quickly, moving her body up and down while he grabbed her hips and watched her breasts bounce with her movements. She moved slower than he did, but her body weight lent to the pressure of her thrusts and he was buried impossibly deep inside her with every fall of her hips.

He grabbed her hand and brought it to where their bodies met. She took the hint and moved her hand into position, using her slim fingers to rub and play with her clit.

This was how this all started; her touching herself while he watched her hand, transfixed, and he wasn't about to complain about the new context of the gesture. Somehow, they had managed to take something as perfect as that night in Ishval and make it better, with the addition of his cock inside her as she moved above him. He would never get tired of watching her touch herself, of the idea of her making herself come, but it felt so good to be included, to work together to bring her over the edge. They've always been better together. Even her moans were better, less restrained and echoing alongside his own.

Her fingers quickened as she grew higher and higher in pitch, until she was leaning back, her back arched and her free hand grasping his leg for support. The change of angle coupled with the better view of her playing with herself sent a fresh wave of heat through him. As she began to lose her rhythm to the growing pleasure, he grabbed her hips and thrust up into her, fast and hard as she hovered above him. She focused all her concentration on her clit while he focused on pumping into her and listening to the tell-tale signs of her impending orgasm. By the time she tensed around him, she was panting heavily, and as she pulsed and tightened and throbbed, he lost himself in the feel of her. Following her over the edge, he struggled to remember to breathe, gasping and groaning and slamming her hips down onto him until he was buried inside her, filling the condom while her juices spilled slowly down her thighs and onto his pelvis.

As she raised her hips to withdraw, he squeezed his eyes shut at the fresh throb of spent pleasure. She collapsed beside him, and he caught his breath enough to roll off the bed and clean himself up. When he fell back into bed, he handed her the damp cloth he had retrieved, and she rubbed it between her legs gratefully. He lay on his back and pulled her onto him, her head resting on his chest. He kissed the top of her head.

"We should still probably eat dinner," he mumbled into her hair.

She hummed. "I did grocery shopping yesterday, I'll make something soon."

"You know, I'm starting to think you don't want to go on a date with me at all."

He said it as a joke, but he felt her body stiffen ever-so-slightly. He pulled back enough to look down at her.

"Riza?"

She craned her neck to face him, and her eyes shone with something approximating guilt.

"Have you been seducing me out of taking you to dinner?" he asked. "Not that I'm complaining, I guess."

She smiled. "I had every intention of going out tonight. It was you who cancelled so abruptly."

He laughed at that. "Yeah, well, you didn't seem to mind."

"But I'm glad we didn't go. I think that maybe going out together is an unnecessary risk."

Ah. Sometimes he forgot that while he finally had everything he could ever want, it was still something he wasn't technically allowed to have. The military wouldn't care for their history, their feelings for one another. A commanding officer sleeping with a subordinate was still an offense worthy of a court-martial.

"You deserv-"

"I already have much more than I deserve," she interrupted, and though her voice was steady and sure, his heart still broke. As far as he was concerned, there wasn't a good thing in this world that she didn't deserve. "And I don't need dates to prove it."

There was a finality to her tone, and Roy knew that he wouldn't be taking her to dinner any time soon. The silence that followed felt heavy, like the dawn was shining on their perfect moment. Like they'd have to wake up soon.

He held her closer, squeezing her arm as she lay her head back on his chest. The warmth of her cheek reassured him. This wasn't a dream, and while it wasn't ideal, it was more than he could have ever asked for. He may not be able to take her out, or kiss her in public, or even stay in her apartment until dawn. But he had her, and he wasn't in any danger of losing her.

"Maybe things will change when I'm Führer," he murmured into her hair.

"Hm?"

"Yeah. If I can make the country a democracy, the military won't be running it anymore. I figure the frat laws can be relaxed a little after that."

She lifted her head again to look at him, a smile on her lips. "Do you think?"

"Sure. Besides, I can't stay in the Führer's mansion alone. All that space..."

"It would be a waste."

"Such a waste. And I'm pretty sure my bodyguard wouldn't be happy with me if I didn't have some protection."

"Safety first," she teased.

"Exactly. It would be unsafe to leave me there by myself. What if someone wanted me dead? Or I burned the place down?"

She laughed. "It sounds like you."

He chuckled in response, reaching up to stroke her cheek. "That's why I'll need all the help I can get. I'm not sure I could even be trusted alone in bed. I'm going to need someone with me."

"Someone you trust."

"Someone who has my back."

She leaned in and kissed him gently, as images of their future formed in his mind. One big mansion, one big bed, one kitchen and garden and a living room with one big couch. All shared among two. All theirs.

She slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, repositioning herself so she was straddling him, chests touching as his arms wrapped possessively across her back. He smiled against her mouth. The urgency he felt earlier in the evening had softened, and when he repositioned them so as she was under him and slid his tongue between her lips, he did so lazily, with the tenderness of someone who had all the time in the world.

A/N: Sin é! I wish I did some Riza POV in this scene, but it felt right for it to be Roy's narration. Please let me know what you think, and if you're on AO3, my username is the same as it is here, or if you're on tumblr, my username is 1st-time-caller. Follow me and then tell me how to use tumblr because I am so new at it! Or drop me prompts, I'd love to write a few one-shots so let me know what you'd like to read!