Title: Never Been Kissed
Author: drummerdancer
Verse: None
Characters/Pairings: Entire cast, eventual Roy/Ed
Word Count: ~2500
Rating: T
Summary: The bets are out when Al unwittingly reveals his brother's never kissed a girl. But is it true? And who exactly is Roy betting on to steal that first smooch? Eventual Roy/Ed.
A/N: A big thanks to Half Demon Alchemist for looking this over. You rock!

It was, to the great amusement of many, the third Tuesday of the month, the day Edward was due to report in to Colonel Mustang about his research. Havoc and Breda had come prepared to the teeth for the occasion; a total of eight different bets had been pledge over the last week, with as many as ten different soldiers betting on any one outcome. Fuery had obtained the details about his latest mission, and Falman had the exact orders by which Ed was supposed to follow. Even Hawkeye had laid down a few bets, though hers were all listed under 'Elizabeth' to preserve her much-overhyped cold disposition to office fun.

The only one not playing was the colonel himself, who found betting on Edward's antics to be "counterproductive to receiving less paperwork" and "an encouragement of bad behavior". He could not be swayed on this no matter what anybody told him, so he was eventually no longer asked what he thought Ed would do. It was just as well, though; more people were willing to bet when they realized Mustang wouldn't skew the game in his favor.

And so Tuesday began: the whole office was there by eight, each eagerly waiting for Ed not to show at nine. When he, indeed, did not show up at nine, several cheers went up as Breda tallied bets and Falman handed over money, the only officer to bet Ed would be on time.

Ten o'clock passed and both Fuery and Hawkeye took out their wallets. Havoc and Breda grinned as they took their money.

It wasn't until an hour and a half later that they finally heard the telltale sign of Edward approaching their door: the uneven gate of his automail echoed down the hallway, especially when he ran. And boy was he sprinting today.

A flash of a red coat was all they saw as Colonel Mustang's private office door was slammed shut, followed by the clanking of a suit of armor as he tried to creep undetected into their office. If a suit of armor could look bashful, Alphonse had it down to a T.

"I tried to wake him..." was all he got out as the inner office erupted with yelling.

"Who are you calling so short he couldn't reach up to set the alarm clock?"

Alphonse groaned, embarrassed. The rest of the office laughed as Breda checked the list.

"First short joke at..." he looked at his watch, "11:26. Less than a minute since Ed arrived."

"Damn...called that one wrong," said Havoc as he laid down his money. "I'd thought by now the boss would be used to Mustang teasing him."

"Brother's still...rather sensitive about it," Al said, wringing his leather gauntlets together. He looked around rather nervously before sitting down on the couch, his head bowed as if in deep thought. Hawkeye frowned, stopping in the midst of signing a piece of paperwork to stare at him.

"Is something the matter, Alphonse?"

Al jerked up, looking even more frazzled than he did previously. "Oh no, it's nothing, Miss Hawkeye. Just thinking, that's all."

"Penny for your thoughts?" Breda asked, winking as he tossed one of his newly collected cenz up in the air, letting it fall on his thumb as he looked down at it, grinning. Havoc rolled his eyes.

Al squirmed like only a suit of armor could as he played with his hands, not looking at any of them. "It's just...I've been wondering lately about something, and Brother doesn't know a lot about it..." He squirmed some more. "...have any of you guys ever kissed somebody?"

Falman, who had been in the middle of a sip of coffee, made a loud choking noise. Fuery turned a fire-engine red and Hawkeye looked just the tadest bit surprised. Havoc and Breda, though, were laughing like hyenas as they got up and approached Al, who looked like he wanted more than anything to blend in like the truly empty suit of armor he used to be.

"Al, my boy, welcome to the golden age of adolescence," Havoc said, thwarting him on the back. "Kissing is only the first of many steps you'll soon take on your journey to adulthood."

"We'll have to invite you on our next bar run," Breda added, his face sliding into a leer. "I'm sure there are many a woman who'd like to get inside you."

Alphonse looked mortified. The instant Edward opened the inner office door, muttering obscenities under his breath about the colonel prohibiting his travel for the next two months, Al grabbed him by his hood, yelling a quick, "OhIDon'tThinkThat'sNecessaryGuysThanksBye," as he and Edward disappeared out of the office, leaving two cackling lieutenants behind in their wake.

Falman and Fuery looked embarrassed, and Hawkeye looked pissed.

"Boys, was that really necessary? Alphonse is fifteen years old; of course he's going to have questions about that."

"But he asked us," Havoc laughed, wiping a tear from his eye. "Out of all the people he could've gone to."

"That's true," Fuery said, confused. "Why didn't he ask someone else, like his brother?"

"He said his brother didn't know a lot about it," Falman said, puzzled.

Havoc's eyes widened. "Wait, you don't think-"

Breda had already rushed back to their desks, pencil in hand as he began drawing a new column. The title read Lip Virgin Status of E.E.

Hawkeye was reaching for her gun. "Boys, I think this is a highly inappropriate thing to start taking bets on."

Havoc was shaking his head, walking around to Breda as his grin split in two. "Nah, I don't think so. You guys bet on my love life all the time-Boss is fair game as far as I'm concerned."

"He's right, Hawkeye," Breda said. "And you've participated in said bets, which means you've already consented to this."

"But Ed's only sixteen-"

"We're already betting on all the other things he does," Falman stated, rubbing his chin in thought. "It's not a far stretch to bet on this part of his life, too."

"Although," Havoc said, looking over Breda's notes. "It says here 'Elizabeth' has lost the past three bets in a row. Maybe it's time she retir-"

A bullet grazed past Havoc's head. He squeaked, diving under his desk. Hawkeye stood and walked over to Breda's desk where the bet book lay open, her eyebrow raised as she holstered her gun.

"Shall we draw up the rules then?"

"I can't believe that bastard froze my research budget for being late! What a sodding asshole!"

"Brother, can you please keep it down? We're in a libra-"

"Such an asshole. The biggest one around. Why, if I could get my hands-"

"Brother!" Alphonse looked horrified as his brother pretended to squeeze an imaginary neck between his hands, a manic grin plastered across his face.

Edward stopped, exhaling as he threaded his hands behind his head and leaned back on his library chair, feet on the table. "You okay, Alphonse? You've been acting kinda weird lately."

Alphonse looked away, grabbing at a book about organic alchemy Edward had pulled from a nearby shelf. I'm fifteen years old and having thoughts about girls while you're sixteen and pumped full of hormones and all you can think about is plant alchemy. Yes, I'm acting perfectly normal; it's you who is acting strange!

His brother never mentioned girls. The only one he ever talked about was Winry, and it was always to complain about the automail.

Did he not feel like Al did? Was something wrong with him? Did he not want to talked about it with Al?

"Oh, it's nothing, Brother," Al said. "Just a bug or something."

"A bug?" Now it was Edward's turn to look startled. "Is there a problem with your seal? Do we need to transfer your soul into something else? Al I don't think-"

"Brother, relax. It was a joke."

"Oh." Edward seemed to ponder the thought for a moment before picking up another book, the cover of Albert Abbott's History of Botanical Alchemy: An Introduction staring him right in the face. "Well, whatever. So I'm going to have to go back and kiss his smug-ass feet tomorrow in order to get it reinstated. And he's ordered us to stay local for the next two months as well."

"Why?"

"Dunno." Edward flipped to the first page. "Bastard didn't say."

"So what are we going to do until then? Grow flowers?"

Edward scowled, flipping to the next page. "Something like that."

It took Mustang's staff very little time to figure out Edward's traveling privileges had been revoked for two months; in fact, the colonel himself informed them all on his way out for lunch that should they happen to see a red coat heading for Central Rail, they were obligated to "stop him in his midget-sized tracks". And then he was out the door, unknowingly leaving his staff behind to make devious bets about said subordinate.

"I bet Ed just hasn't had time for girls," Havoc remarked, casually spinning a pencil around his fingers as he leaned back on his chair. "Set him up with Hillary or Vanessa and he'll be kissed within the hour."

"But Fullmetal has quite the reputation in the places he's visited," said Fuery as he made notes on a sheet of paper. "If it was really that simple, wouldn't he already have done it?"

Breda shook his head. "Al said his brother didn't know much about it. We just need to set him up and bang, hormones'll kick in and Ed'll have his tongue down her throat, no questions asked."

Fuery looked unsure. "But how do you know that's what Ed would do? I don't kiss girls on first dates; maybe Ed's a romantic and wants to be exclusive with one girl at a time?"

"Plus," Falman interrupted, "what about his female mechanic? Maybe he's already got a thing with her and is waiting to kiss her instead?"

Havoc sat his chair back down on all four legs, grinning at all of them. Each man was coming to their own conclusions about how Ed would react. This was good; bets were always more interesting when people were divided. The only one not to weigh in yet was Hawkeye, who was calmly cleaning her gun, her eyes averted, her lips pulled in a flat line. Had it been anybody else observing her, Havoc was sure they'd assume Hawkeye wasn't listening and didn't care to add anything. On the contrary, though, Havoc knew her expression for what it really is; interest, perplexing and concentrated interest as she weighed the opinions in her head and released none of her own. Clever lady, though he'd never say it to her face.

"Hawkeye, you got anything to add?" Breda asked as he began writing up the guidelines.

She paused in her cleaning, eyes on them all as she spoke. "Under no circumstances can Edward be forced into doing or committing the act. No drugs, no alcohol, no bribery. Also, he has to consent to the kiss. It's cheating for someone to kiss him unwarranted."

They all nodded as Breda wrote down the rules. "Anything else?"

"Edward cannot know about the bet."

"Duly noted." Breda finished with the list. Everybody was looking at him and the book. He grinned. "Are we ready to bet?"

A gold coin was slid to him under the guise of a napkin. Mustang placed his hand over it through the cloth.

"Another fake, I'm guessing?"

"Fourth one this month," answered his companion, her heavily made-up eyes narrowing. "And it's not even close to the real thing."

"Hm. Who gave you this one?"

"Martin Messer, the liaison for Ingle Industries."

"Hm." Roy Mustang folded the napkin underneath itself and slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks for letting me know. Call if you receive another one."

"Will do." His companion gave him one last dark look before standing and leaving, a cheeky wink and a kiss blown his way the last he saw as she turned the corner and left.

Roy frowned; something was happening, something big. Fake money hardly ever got rotated into circulation, especially in Amestris's capital city. To think Chris's girls had received four pieces in the last month was unheard-of to say the least.

He paid for their meals and left, the gold piece still wrapped in cloth in his pocket. Yes, unheard-of indeed.

Stupid Mustang. Stupid stupid stupid.

Edward was drawing a lead hole into his paper, his automail clenching unconsciously as he scowled. How dare he! Stupid bastard can't permit me not to travel or take away my research budget. Hell, I have money of my own I can spend! I don't need him; Al and I will be on the next train tomorrow and he'll have no idea.

Even as he thought it, though, Edward knew they wouldn't leave. For all that Ed lacked in morals, Al more than compensated for them in the end. They'd stay, and Ed would have to go in in the morning, and they'd deal with not leaving for two months. That's how it worked, even if Edward wished it were otherwise.

Still doesn't stop the bastard from being a bastard. Doesn't even tell me why we can't travel. Stupid stupid stup-

His paper ripped. His pencil broke.

Edward was not happy.

Alphonse had wandered off into the library half an hour ago because Ed had started ranting about Mustang again. It was weird, really; usually his brother stuck around and tried to get him to realize Mustang was on his side in all of this, but lately, Al had been less vocal about it. Ed had, at first, assumed it was because Al was seeing Mustang for the evil smirking bastard that he was, but no, it wasn't just conversations about Mustang. They could be talking about food or lodgings or even kittens and Al would stop paying attention, staring off into nothing like he wasn't there anymore or something.

If Ed was being honest, he was kind of scared. Al refused to talk about what was bothering him, and that, out of everything else, was simply something Al didn't do. Was it something bad, something serious? Something...

Edward lowered his head. Something about his body? Was he finally realizing what he'd done to him, realizing that there was a chance they'd not get it back in time? Was he angry with him? Did he hate him?

Edward groaned, resting his head in his arms. All he knew was today sucked, and tomorrow was going to suck even more.

Stupid Mustang. This was all his fault.