A/N: Royai day 3 prompt: whisper. Humor/romance/modern AU. Blep Roy has been on my mind and I've been wanting to flaunt his dorkiness.

Rating: T for language

Pairing: Royai

The sound of electronic disco music was blaring in the club, infused with noise of people laughing and screaming. The dance floor was packed tight with sweat, and the smell of booze permeated in the air. Drunk college kids jumping up and down in the air and stumbling all over the each other was a common sight as the weather turned dry and hot, signaling the beginning of summer vacation. It's not a surprise Roy Mustang and his pack had been frequenting this establishment since the end of finals week. Young, lively, single and ready to mingle; where else would attractive, social young adults go for a night of fun and entertainment? Central City's Arakawa-san was the town's most popular night club and the best place to meet hot and sexy young ladies.

"Hey, watch it, bitch!"

Clumsily, Maes Hughes tripped over a man with a build twice his size, knocking his 'sex on the beach' cocktail all over his letterman jacket, looking absolutely unapologetic. The jock stared him down, teeth clenched and bared. Maes stared back, sizing him up and down. Grabbing Maes's collar, he would have landed a purple bruise on his face, crunching his glasses, but loyal best friend Roy sandwiched himself in between the two men, apologizing on his behalf, "Sorry. He's drunk." Anger wouldn't correctly describe the man, because at this point he just wanted to show off to his girlfriend (who was standing next to him) that he was indeed capable of hurting someone. But charismatic Roy never failed to get out of a life-and-death situation such as this, and he backed away slowly, flashing the man the most respectful look he could muster, and carried his inebriated friend towards the bar and away from the dance floor.

"Holy shit, Maes. The last time you were this obnoxious you almost broke your nose! You want Gracia to kill me?!" Maes merely nodded, not fully comprehending the consequences of his actions.

"Maes is done. And Gracia will probably worry if he doesn't get home soon. I'm gonna drive him and call it a night. You guys can Uber home. See ya," Fuery said. The young, underage-looking man grabbed Maes by the arm and threw it over his shoulder, slowly dragging him through the sea of people and out of the club. But the spectacled man knew it was his chance to get away from the club. It wasn't much his scene anyway.

The bartender behind the bar pushed a mixed drink towards Jean Havoc, and the muscular, blonde hair man casually tossed a couple of cenz in the tip jar, feeling thoroughly cool. Handing a rum and coke to Mustang, he wiggled his eyebrows. "The night's still young, eh?"

Fully understanding what his cheeky friend meant by his phrase, Mustang smirked. They high fived each other and began their ridiculously long, practiced handshake, like kindergarteners trying to impress people around them.

"Since you guys are talking about ladies," another friend, a stocky, red-haired man interrupted, "I noticed the group of girls sitting at that table has been staring at Roy since before Maes left."

Mustang and Havoc paused their handshake and stealthily glanced in the direction of the group of girls sitting across from where they were standing. The three girls looked to be in their early twenties: beautiful, worth a chase, seemed interesting enough-not that this part mattered much. But best of all, they were not sitting with any guys. As sneaky as they thought they were, the brunette of the group instantly caught their furtive glance and winked towards the oogling men. After whispering to her friends, the two other girls giggled in unison, staring with amused eyes at the men by the bar. There was something off with the way they stared, but Jean nor Roy nor their other friend Breda could give a shit, because these women were actually giving them attention back.

Roy Mustang locked his eyes at one of the women. The blonde, long haired one. He could hear his heartbeat drumming in his ears. Oh my god, she is so fucking cute. The blonde stared back at him, giving him a genuine smile that made his heart skip a beat. Oh shit, oh shit. Roy suddenly felt awkward, not knowing what to do, and as quickly as he could manage, he put his hand on his raven black hair and slicked it back as if it would make him look that much cooler. He then guzzled the drink in his hand, letting the burn of the alcohol provide him that extra courage he sorely needed.

Havoc and Breda noticed his obsessive staring and chuckled in amusement. Tapping him on the shoulder, his loyal comrade Breda brought their pack leader out of his reverie, "You know, I heard girls like it when you start a conversation with a joke."

"No way, man! They prefer it if the guy has a killer pick up line," Havoc retorted.

"Dude, this is why you never get girls! You need to stop listening to whoever gave you that shitty advice," Breda hustled back, seemingly a sage when it came to women.

As they continued to bicker, Roy took another quick glance at the attractive girl, feeling that rapid pulse on his neck, which prompted his breathing to quicken. He gathered courage and thought to himself, This should be easy for you. Girls love you. You've always gotten their numbers everytime. And yet at the back of his mind, he knew that this girl was not his typical dimwitted, busty airhead who couldn't tell the difference between lamb and sheep, because there was something intelligent about her. Maybe it was the way she looked more natural than his usual makeup laden women. Or perhaps it was the way she dressed; more conservative than the usual bimbos.

Calming himself down, Roy flicked a sideway glance, noticing flirtatious smirks and giggles coming from the women. Every now and then Roy would hear this whistle coming from a girl with dark, pixie cut, and he could've sworn it was meant for him, propelling his ego sky high. The girls faced one another once more, another giggle, another chuckle, and Roy took this as his cue to approach them.

"Wish me luck, boys."

The two friends next to him gave their thumbs up.

"Ah wait, no. I don't need luck." Smugly, Roy snickered and strode towards the girls.

His two friends watched with amusement as their charming leader slicked his hair back one more time and slipped his hands in his jeans' pockets. With a little bit too much confidence, Roy deadpanned on the flaxen-haired girl, thinking how attractive he must have looked by the way she lingered her gaze on him. When he got to the table, the two women instinctively scooted over to give him some space to sit in between them, and he thought he must've charmed them to no end to let him sit with them without question.

Roy cleared his throat and coolly greeted the blonde woman, "So I noticed you've been staring at me all night. What's your name?" Smirking handsomely as he looked her directly in the eyes, he noticed how beautiful her hazel eyes were.

She gave out a small laugh and simply said, "Riza. What's yours?"

Not bad, Roy. She actually responded amicably. "Roy Mustang. And before you ask, yes it is Mustang like the horse." Roy could hear the other two girls giggled, boosting his confidence. Both of Riza's friend, however, flicked a knowing glance at her and trotted towards the direction of Roy's two other friends. Casting his friends a victorious look, Roy winked at Jean and Heymans, giving his two boys the confirmation that it was time for them to make their moves on the two other women.

Riza stared a curious look at him, appearing entirely amused before replying lightheartedly, "Horse, huh? They're your spirit animal?"

"Heh. Something like that."

Laughing sincerely, Riza put her hand on his muscular arm, looking thoroughly endearing. "Are you sure your spirit animal... isn't a bunny? A pink, fluffy, bunny?"

Shooting her a questioning look, he reflexively held his breath as Riza slowly leaned close to his ear. A weird tingling feeling settled in his belly, and his throat automatically gulped, sensing that nervous sensation sliding down his windpipe. But he knew he had been successful, because why else would she close the gap between them?

Letting himself revel in her ministration, he felt her lips touch his ear and he couldn't help himself but shudder, thinking when to best ask her for her number. Momentarily, however, she whispered, and all collected demeanor (or a fragment of it) along with confidence disappeared down the drain, "Well your undies sure say otherwise."

Roy swiftly looked down at his zipper and he could feel his cheeks burn bright. Well, shit. Only then he saw what she meant by bunnies, because as he felt red creep up his face, he could see a good amount of pink, fluffy bunnies adorn his boxer. Realization as to why the women had been staring all night finally hit him and he chastised to himself, feeling extremely embarrassed and unknowing how to move forward.

Before he could think of something clever to say, however, he saw Riza stand up from the booth. She started walking towards her friends, who had been mingling with Roy's two other friends at the bar. He could feel his heart sink to his stomach, thinking how he had fuck himself over because of his negligence. But before the rest of his self-esteem could scatter in the dimly lit club, Riza turned her head towards Roy. With the prettiest smile he had ever seen in his life, she extended her hand and offered it to him, gesturing the awkward man to join her. Without hesitance, Roy took her hand, smiling in defeat, learning an important lesson that his good look saved him the embarrassment.

Fin.

P.S. Roy didn't learn shit.

A/N: If y'all have been to Vegas, I got the idea of Arakawa-san as the club name from Hakka-san. Lol. And I totally forgot to write Vato in… So sorry :(