Summary: Riza stumbles upon Roy shaving his beard and is instantly reminded of his first shave almost 25 years ago. Young Royai with a bonus of future Royai :). Post-manga.
Disclaimer: All characters apart from Maes Mustang belong to Hiromu Arakawa.
The quiet splashing of water made Riza cringe inwardly. If she could hear the water-tap in the living room, that meant... She threw her book onto the old, teak coffee-table and stood up. She hated Roy's bad habit of leaving the bathroom door wide open on all occasions, whether he bathed, showered (not, that Riza would complain about these occasions) or surrendered to his other human needs. If that wasn't bad enough, it seemed that Maes, Roy and Riza's 3-year-old son, picked up that habit. Riza had no other choice but to argue with Roy every time she caught him.
As she reached the bathroom and took in a deep breath to repeatedly scold her husband, the words were stuck in her mouth. Her two favorite men stood in the large bathroom, the big one in front of the sink, the small one in front of a stool which carried a small bowl of water and a little table mirror.
Both of their faces were partly obscured by shaving foam and while Roy held a real razor, he had given Maes one of his old ones which lacked the blades. They shaved their faces in such synchrony, that every bystander watching them would either crack up laughing or squeal at the cuteness.
Riza did neither. Her eyes were focused on her husband as a strong memory started to surface.
12-year-old Riza Hawkeye had just finished the dishes, as she heard a quiet splashing sound. Her heart clenched and her breathing sped up. The girl knew her father never made any noises and sometimes, she sneaked into his study just to make sure he was alive, as he even stayed away from dinner in his alchemical surges. But what could it be? A burglar? They didn't possess any valuable objects - the only pieces of interest were her father's books and even they were only interesting to insiders. And the splashing... where did it come from?
Cautiously, step by step, the small girl ascended the wooden stairwell, more intent than ever to omit the particular squeaky steps. Finally, she reached the top of the stairs, and indeed: It seemed like the splashing came out of the bathroom. The bathroom was situated at the end of the long hallway; the door was wide open and the soft light illuminated a part of the corridor.
Riza took a deep breath. She knew her father would never leave a door open. He closed the door after himself even when he fetched a quill from his study. No, this was in no way her father and there was no way she could go to him and ask for his help. She had to investigate on her on, so she steeled her nerves and crept along the walls up to the bathroom. The splashing sound stopped and she heard... an exasperated sigh? Moreover, the voice seemed strangely familiar...
With a last, reassuring breath, Riza stuck her blonde haired head around the corner and instantly recognized the source of the splashing. The girl sighed gently. How could she have forgotten him? In front of Riza, there stood a tall, lean boy of 15 years, his black, messy hair combed back and his face covered in white foam.
It was the first time Roy Mustang shaved his beard.
"Hey pup," the 40-year-old Roy Mustang turned his eyes to study his son, who instantly turned to his father and watched him carefully.
"You want to be sure you get every single hair, right? So you'll have to stretch your skin a little. Just like that!"
That's what the 15-year-old Roy Mustang did, but he seemed much less adept than his future self. Every move seemed like he tried something new, experimented every way to use his new, unfamiliar tools.
He managed, somehow. With every stroke of the blade, the boy grew more confident and soon, he started to hum a light melody totally unknown to Riza by then. Years later, she would find out, that he had hummed Chris Mustang's trademark lullaby, a lullaby Riza would learn and sing to her own son every night.
But for now, Riza had to refrain to watching Roy and listening to this yet unfamiliar sound. She didn't know why she chose to stay by the door or why she watched him, she just did. She hardly saw her father shave, even more so since he shaved very irregularly, not understanding the need to do so unless he had to run an errand he could not pass onto his daughter.
So it fascinated her to see the young boy, who had taken off his shirt in foresight, doing all those things she as a girl would never be able to understand.
In contrast to the young Roy, who by now had soaked his entire upper body with water in his first attempts to shave, the adult Roy seemed mostly dry though he stuck to the habit of shaving shirtless.
By now, Riza had leaned against the door frame, still unnoticed by her men, who were concentrating hardly on improving their looks. She crossed her arms, her lips sporting a slight smile, as Roy bent over his son, took a dog-shaped washcloth and wiped off the excess foam that Maes had not taken off.
"And now that all the foam's gone, we have to check whether we've really shaved off all the hair. Just stroke along your jaw like this and you'll feel every left-over hair."
The slight, scratchy sound that could be heard as Roy stroked his jaw, made Riza's legs turn to jelly.
And young Riza's heart leaped suddenly, as she saw and heard Roy stroke his jaw. What was it that fascinated her about it? He just touched his face, looking for leftover hair that most likely hasn't been there in the first place, if one took into account that Riza had not seen any hair on his face that morning. Yet, something about it intrigued her enough to cock her head and resume watching her new inmate.
As Roy found an unshaven spot, he applied a bit of the foam on his throat and proceeded to shave off the last hairs. He decidedly shaved with the grain...
... whereas his younger self decided to shave against the grain.
"If you shave against the grain, you may irritate your skin or even cut it!"
As soon as those words were out of her mouth, Riza threw her hands over her mouth. But it was too late – she had startled Roy enough to have him nick himself. Blood gashed out of the small wound that the poor boy held somewhat helplessly as he finally searched the origin of the voice, that suddenly started to apologize.
"I am so sorry, Mr Mustang," she squeaked, her voice a couple of octaves higher with shock, as she hurried to the closet, taking out a first aid kit.
"R-Riza? I mean, uhm, Miss Hawkeye... what are you doing here?" The young man stuttered, clearly surprised and confused by her sudden appearance.
"That is not important now. Please, sit down on the water closet. I can't reach the wound with you standing up like that."
Obediently, Roy sat down, drawing his hand away from the cut as Riza dabbed it with fresh tissues to remove the excess blood before she applied a big plaster on it.
"There. I think this will do."
"After you shave, your skin is irritated. That is why men use aftershaves. It reduces the irritations and refreshes your skin. Mummy forbade me to use real aftershave on you," Roy made a face and Riza was about to complain, as she heard her son's delighted laugh, "but this is the lotion she uses for your face. This will have the same effect. Come here!"
Gently and unintentionally humming his foster mother's lullaby, Roy applied some of the lotion onto Maes soft cheeks and distributed it evenly, slightly tickling his son while doing this.
The young Roy hesitated. His foster mother had equipped him with all supplies needed for shaving, however, he felt weird applying aftershave onto his face. Chris had told him that the odor of the aftershave had the same effect as perfume - it was used to infatuate women. But what women was he supposed to infatuate? He was 15 and the only available woman in a 30 minutes' walk was standing right beside him, watching him with those big, soft caramel eyes of hers, probably wondering why he stared into the mirror motionlessly.
He sighed. His skin started to itch already and he did not have any other lotion packed, so he grabbed the aftershave, put a generous amount onto his left hand and clapped it onto his face.
The old Roy's eyes twitched a little bit as the disinfectant in the aftershave sanitized his skin.
The young Roy squeaked loudly, biting his lips to refrain from screaming furthermore.
That stuff burned!
How could his mother not have warned him? Well, how could a woman know it would burn? She didn't have a beard to shave off. He quickly repacked his little toilet bag and intended to flee the bathroom, trying to preserve as much dignity as he had left after screaming like a little girl in front of a little girl. As he finally squeezed past Riza and put his hand on the door knob of his room, he heard her soft voice murmuring.
"This smells really nice."
He didn't know whether she wanted him to hear the words or not, so he opened the door and quickly shut it behind him, a deep, crimson blush flooding his cheeks.
"This smells really nice," Riza suddenly uttered, receiving surprised glances of her two favorite men.
Maes's face instantly lightened up and he stretched out his small arms for his mother to pick him up. "Papa just showed me how to shave!"
"Did he?" Riza asked him, lifting the boy into her arms and resting him with one arm on her hip while the other one playfully checked the little boy's jaw. "It feels good. Your papa's first shave wasn't smooth at all."
"Hey!" Roy piped up, his lips in Riza's favorite pout. She quickly pecked her husbands lips in an attempt to apologize. "Now, let's get this beautiful, handsome young man to bed, shall we?"
After changing Maes into his pajamas, tucking him into his bed and singing his favorite lullaby, the little boy's eyes drooped and Riza quietly left the room after putting the lights out.
Roy waited for her in their bedroom; to her disappointment, he had already put on a light shirt.
"So, I heard you like the smell of my aftershave," he grinned, reaching out for her hands and happily taking them to his own. He quickly drew her into his arms, nuzzling her neck affectionately.
"I do," she answered, her hands stroking up and down his back, "and you know that. I have never seen you buy any other kind of aftershave."
He chuckled and the vibration spread onto both of their bodies.
"That's true. I guess you had me hooked from then on. I've never looked at you the same from then on."
"Me too," she agreed, retreating from the hug enough to be able to reach his front and to slowly loosen the buttons of his shirt, "the way you shaved... call me crazy, but even my 12-year-old self thought you were sexy. Not that she would have used that word by then to describe you. I mean, you were so tall and so meager and you screamed like a girl –"
"I hope you'll get to the good part soon."
She leaned into his now bare chest and laughed.
"Even so, it fascinated me to watch you shave. It still does. And I have no idea why." She kissed him lightly. "Still, please refrain from leaving the bathroom door open. It's disgusting to smell it every time you've been on the toilet. I don't want Maes to pick up that habit."
Roy sighed theatrically and pushed Riza onto their bed as he disposed of the already opened-up shirt and crawled onto his side of the bed.
"I'll try. But now, I really need to get to sleep. Negotiations with Aerugo are waiting for me."
He had hardly finished his sentence as he already felt himself being pinned down onto the bed by his wife's body.
"Oh Roy. Didn't I tell you that you smelled really nice tonight?" A mischievous grin started to appear on the woman's face and spread to her husband's lips as she started to kiss his clean-shaven neck lovingly.