AYYYY I TYPED THIS IN UNDER AN HOUR FORGIVE ME
You stood nervously in front of Rivaille's desk, pulling on your jacket sleeve. He had called you to his office, but with no apparent reason. Or that's what you thought. Thinking back throughout the day, there was nothing within reason for him to call you out. Sure you had dropped some crumbs and left them to be swept up by someone else's boots, but it would be highly improbable for him to notice that.
"Cadet (name)" he stated, not looking up from his paperwork. You stiffened and slapped your fist against your chest, a little too hard. Wincing, you let out a quiet 'yes sir'.
"What was that cadet?"
"Yes sir!" you said loudly. He looked up from his writing and raised his brow. Cold gray eyes defined by dark bags met your wide eyed (e/c) orbs. You hastily directed your gaze down to your feet. He made a small 'hmph' and continued to stare at you Tightening your lips, you could feel a bead of sweat making its way down your neck. He definitely was as intimidating as they say, even though he was a mere five three.
Even though he was sitting down and scarcely reached your shoulders.
Even though you were the one towering over him.
"I'm out of tea." "S-sir?"
"Call me Rivaille."
"Yes si- er Rivaille"
"Stop that stupid pose." You moved your chin slightly to signal understanding and let your hands fall to you sides. Not knowing what to do, you to do there and bit your lower lip. Your eyes wandered over to his paperwork, scribbles strewn across them all. His handwriting was very neat, almost better than yours and you considred yourself a pretty neat writer. You tipped your head to the side slighty and continued to watch him write.
"Cadet." You jumped and directed your gaze back to his. He tipped his chin in the direction of the empty mug.
"Right. I'll get you some more tea." Embarrased, you hurriedly grabbed his mug and practically ran out of his office. Pausing in the hallway, you whispered his name.
Rivaille.
What a strange name.
Making your way to kitchen, you opened a cabinet revealing many types of tea. You came to realize that you had no idea which kind he preferred. You turned to go back to him, but then realized how big of an idiot you would seem. Furrowing your brows, you grabbed a random tea packet and dunked it in his mug. You dipped your fingers into the brew and stuck it in your mouth. You wrinkled your nose.
Who the hell thought this was a good idea?
It tasted so bitter your jaw locked.
Sugar should help.
You searched through all the cupboards and came across a shelf filled with jars of white powders.
Oh Jesus.
Frantically, you spun all the jars to find any kind if label. There was none. You groaned and opened a random jar, fingers crossed that it was sugar. You tipped the jar just enough so that a sprinkle of sugar trickled out. You attempted to shove it back into the shelf but in your hurry missed and tipped the jar over.
Spilling most of the contents into Rivaille's mug.
You stared at the mess you've made and stifled a scream. If he found out, there would definitely be a place for you in his office. You spun head around and spotted a small trashbin. You lifted it up and brought it over to your mess and swept it all into the bin. You eyed the trail of leftover powder and pursed your lips. Oops. Grabbing the mug, you walked as fast as you could back to his office. You held your breath and knocked on his door and let yourself in.
"I have your tea sir" you said breathlessly, gently placing the mug on his table.
"The hell you take so long for, brat?" he muttered as he lifted the tea up to his lips. You held your breath and hoped with everything you've got that it was indeed sugar you poured into that monster of a tea. You couldn't have been more wrong. Rivaille choked and slammed his mug on the table. "Are you trying to poison me you little shit?" He said angrily.
"N-no sir! Not at all!"
"I want you to drink this." He stood up abruptly, the screech of the chair on wood clawing at your ear. You took the cup he shoved in your hand and gingerly took a sip, all the while thinking about how damn scary he was. The instant the liquid from hell came in contact with your taste buds, you had the strongest urge to spit it out but knowing your corporal as the clean freak he was, it would be even worse to do so. You reluctantly swallowed and reflexively gagged.
"What can you tell me about this, cadet?" He whispered whilst slowly walking towards you.
"It's very...uh...salty " you squeaked. He stood in front of you, too close to be friendly, but too far to be intimate. You felt your cheeks heat up as his breath brushed against you.
"Can you tell me why that is?" he whispered in your ear.
You closed your eyes and whimpered "I-I think I may have put s-salt instead of sugar"
"Oh? And why would tea need sugar in the first place?"
"Sir, it was really bitter and I assumed you wouldn't like it."
"You should know better than to assume" he growled, shoving you against the wall. You gasped, the air rushing out of your lungs as you hit the wooden planks. His hands on both your shoulders, he pressed his cheek against yours, breathing softly on your ear.
"S-sir we shouldn't b-" He dug his nails into your shoulder, cutting you off. You let out a small yelp and flicked your eyes to him.
"Maybe I like it bitter." he muttered. Rivaille's fingers rose from your shoulders to your chin and ever so slightly tipped your head so that your lips ghosted over each others. Slowly, he moved his lips over yours and whispered,
"Besides, you're sweeter than sugar..."