an: hey guys! i'm back at it again with another royai au!

this is a 3 yr old wip and in the interest o clearing it from my wip folder, i decided to clean it up and post it in the hopes it being out in the wold will motivate me to finally write it hahahah. i really did enjoy the first few chapters i wrote a few years ago, so i'm happy to finally make a start and commit to it. although this was originally intended to be a long multi-chapter fic, for me to finally post and write it now, the grand, overarching storyline (whatever it was hahaha) needs to be scrapped. so! this will be kinda~ collection of oneshots posted under the same banner at different times throughout the final school year. some will be direct follow ons, some will be "standalones". but in general, they all will be connected. it just means the timing may skip forward in some chapters. sometimes a lot, sometimes a wee bit.

also - school terms/years are based off the scottish school system. i'm scottish so i'm writing what i know. its not the most important plot point, but if you're confused about anything, feel free to ask and i'll explain how it works!

i'm trying to get back into posting here rather than just on ao3, and i don't anticipate it being a long fic, but i'm here to finally return to it and have some fun. i hope you do too!

fic tags: riza and havoc are bffs, this is canon, royai, high school au, modern au, teenagers au, friendship, best friends, friends to lovers, romance, angst, humor

"I'm going to miss summer," Jean Havoc mused, throwing his apple core off the roof of his house. It sailed through the air and landed on the ground, bouncing slightly. It disappeared between the tall blades though, out of sight, because Jean had neglected to cut it recently.

His best friend, Riza Hawkeye, glanced at him sharply. "That better have landed in the compost pile," she warned.

Jean peered over the edge of the roof from where he was sitting and shrugged, giving up in his very brief search.

"Jean." She half-heartedly threw a grape at him in response for his careless littering.

Even though it was compostable, Riza didn't want it to catch Jean's mother unaware, leaving her to end up stepping in the mulch when she was out enjoying the peace of her garden.

He caught the grape no problem and popped in his mouth. "I'll move it if it didn't," he reassured her defensively. Then, he broke out into a grin as he chewed.

Riza said nothing and just kept staring at him until he relented.

"Fine," he complained, standing from his position. Taking two steps towards the edge of the roof, Riza stopped him by latching onto his wrist tightly in a panic.

"Don't," she hissed, yanking him back while Jean chuckled.

"I wasn't actually going to jump," he laughed as he flopped back down to sit on the roof.

"Could've fooled me," she muttered. "You've done it before."

"Oh yeah," he recalled, his eyes twinkling as he probably remembered how "awesome" that day had been. "That was awesome."

Bingo.

"If you think almost breaking your neck is amazing, then by all means," Riza gestured dramatically towards the edge of the roof.

"The pool was deep enough, Riza," he reminded her, rolling his eyes. "It was just like diving off the boards. In fact, they were higher than the roof of that outbuilding," Jean defended.

"Yeah, but the people on the diving boards weren't as drunk as you were."

Jean just grinned at her.

Her best friend sighed happily at the memory and sat back to lean against the wall, his blonde hair catching in the gentle breeze. It tousled his long fringe, brushing it across the view of his black sunglasses. The mop of blonde hair on the top of his head was contradicted by his shaved sides. They looked much darker than the hair at the front, which had been bleached golden by the sun during their summer break.

Riza's own long fringe was being bothersome, in contrast. She shoved it off her face, but it persisted and fell back into the same place, tickling her nose. The day was stifling though, so she didn't mind too much. Any breeze was welcome, despite how much it mussed up her short hair. Fine, stray strands were blown into her face at every opportunity, almost like they were trying to irritate her on purpose.

They were currently sitting outside Jean's bedroom window. His room overlooked the Havoc's back garden. Directly outside the window was the roof of the extension on the ground floor of the house. Their dining room sat right below them. They probably shouldn't be sitting out on the roof due to structural integrity, but it was a beautiful afternoon, and they didn't feel like venturing out in Jean's jeep anywhere. Plus, it was Riza's favourite place in the summer. There was nothing to block the sun and it offered beautiful views across to the centre of East City.

"I'm surprised my mother didn't throttle me after I showed her that video the next day," Jean snickered as he popped a grape into his mouth. He offered the stalk to Riza and she took it, peeling off a few.

"I'm surprised too. Have you told her about your… habit yet?"

Jean shook his head furiously. "Oh no," he replied hurriedly. "I would like to remain in the land of the living thank you very much," he stated. "And it's not a habit," he added quickly, shifting in place restlessly. "No matter how much it won't leave me alone, my mother would kill me if I started smoking."

Riza chuckled. "I suppose you're right there."

"Suppose?" he snorted. He bit into his second apple.

Marie Havoc was a lovely woman, but as a mother… Well, Riza could understand why Jean said he felt suffocated sometimes. She was simply a worrier. Always had been, for as long as Riza could remember.

Jean did get babied from time to time, however it was understandable. Jean's father had died when he was young, leaving Marie to raise her son by herself. And while she did a wonderful job, the walls could become oppressive with her constant inquiring about a teenage Jean's life. She wasn't sure if he should go out with his friends at night, because it was dark, and the weather was bad. Marie would wring her hands together whenever he announced he was going on a date. She wanted to know who the girl was and where she lived while Jean rushed to get ready. For a teenage boy, it wasn't the ideal situation to be in.

Riza didn't mind though. The constant questioning didn't bother her and if she was present, she'd act as a buffer and answer the questions for Jean. She didn't cringe, while Jean did, leaving him to feel embarrassed. At eighteen, he didn't want to be babied, but that was just in Marie Havoc's nature.

Riza couldn't dredge up the sympathy Jean felt he rightly deserved however, because at least he had a parent who cared about him. Her heart clenched within her chest every time Marie rung her hands together and hovered over him, because secretly that's what Riza wished for the most. Since she was very young.

"She loves you, that's why."

"I know," he sighed. His head tilted back and came to rest upon the wall behind him. Guilt flooded his face as he chewed on the fruit. They'd been through this before, and every time, even though he complained, Jean felt remorseful after venting his frustrations. "I… I get it. I really do. It's just hard to live with sometimes. I'm eighteen and she treats me like I'm eight."

"I know," Riza nodded in understanding, patting his knee. "But just remember, it could be worse."

Jean shot her a look. "You're right," he stated sheepishly. "Sorry."

Riza waved off his apology. "I didn't mean like me. I meant…" She struggled for a moment, trying to think of the right words. "I mean, I know why she constantly questions everything." Riza fiddled with the seam of her socks, stretching the dog pattern so the pup's faces elongated comically. "I think I would too if I was in her situation. She just doesn't want to lose you too."

"Where am I going to get lost in the outskirts of East City?" Jean asked, offering as weak smile as he tried to lighten to the mood. He tossed the apple core onto the grass below.

Riza let this one slide, but still shot him a look, which her friend promptly ignored.

"This place is a dive," Jean muttered. "Nothing exciting ever happens."

"Just… Try and see it from her perspective sometimes."

Jean sighed, loudly and heavily. "I do. Despite the complaints… I do. Is it bad that sometimes I have to count to ten before I reply?"

"From what I've been told, that's just what teenagers do to get by," Riza quipped, nudging him again. "And they say mood swings are worse in teenage girls than in teenage boys," she joked, smirking at the scowl on his face. "Besides, she's not that bad. She lets you sit on the roof. She bought you that jeep. She lets me come around any day and any time."

"All right," he grumbled. "Stop making me feel guiltier than I already am." He shoved at her knee with his sock covered foot, causing her to lose her balance slightly while Riza laughed. "And I think that's because she likes you more than me."

"That's definitely not true."

"I mean, your practically my sister," Jean commented. "I could understand it if she did."

Despite them being best friends since they were six and had come to this conclusion about their friendship years ago, it still secretly warmed Riza's heart to hear someone mention it. It was true, they were inseparable. Marie Havoc really did treat Riza like Jean's sister.

That time Jean had jumped off the roof into the pool? They'd been on holiday. Marie took Riza on holiday with them to Aerugo. She paid for everything. Riza was more a part of their family than she was her own – not that there was much of a family left anyway.

"She loves you Jean. She just worries about you, as parents do."

Jean Havoc really did love his mother. He was always there when she called for anything. He worked his ass off at the weekends so he could pay his own way in the house as best he could. His mother would never allow it, of course, but both he and Riza knew how much she worked. She did it so she could provide the best for her boy and shifts at the hospital were long and arduous. Marie didn't give herself much rest.

That was how she found out her husband had passed. He'd come into the emergency room after a car crash where she'd been on shift that night but died as the doctors and nurses worked on him. Jean had been five. Marie took it very hard, so of course, she worried about her son. She just wanted him to be safe. Riza didn't mind too much when she stated he shouldn't go out driving at night and their plans changed. That was how Jean's father had died, after all.

Marie could never bring herself to get behind the wheel again after her husband's accident, but as soon as Jean passed his driving test, she bought him a Jeep. It was to give him more freedom, she'd told Riza as he excitedly circled his present. Riza still saw the look of fear in her eyes though as he sat in the driver's seat. She heard the shaky breath leave her as he turned on the engine. Marie grinned at her son though, waving at him as he beamed happily back at her.

"He looks just like him," Marie had whispered wistfully, as her hand lowered. Jerking herself out of her thoughts, she gestured for Riza to hop in, stating he should take them both for a spin and try it out. Riza had felt a pang in her chest, wishing her own father cared about her enough to do something like this for her.

Not a lavish present like that.

She didn't need anything.

Riza just wanted to be loved by her last remaining family member.

"I hate the last day of summer," Riza muttered as she stared over the greenery of Jean's garden.

"Same. I don't want to go back to struggling with schoolwork. Three months holiday is not enough time for me to get over it, then mentally prepare for the next year."

"I'll help you though, remember?" Riza's offer was nothing but kind. She inflected enough so she didn't patronise him, because not only did she know he'd hate it, but because she also knew he was clever enough not to need any help at all. Jean just needed to recognise it himself.

"I know, but I just wish I wasn't so stupid sometimes," he huffed. "I'm convinced my brain works differently from everyone else because nothing ever goes in."

"Jean, you're smart," Riza reassured him with one hundred percent certainty.

He snorted.

"No, really, you are." Riza turned so she was facing him fully. Her eyebrows pulled into a frown at the disbelief in his reaction.

"Tell that to my teachers," he muttered darkly.

"It's the marks on paper that matter, not what they say."

"Riza, the teachers mark those papers."

"Uh hu, and what do they all say? You didn't get anything lower than a C last year, and that was only in one subject. You did great. You still passed every subject."

"I just wish it didn't always feel like such a damn struggle," he muttered again His mood was on a definite downturn now at the thought of the upcoming school year.

"Listen, one more year of this then you're free. I'll always be here too. Just tell me if you need me."

He shot her a grateful look. "I know, I know…" He trailed off. "Your right," he stated, shifting in place so his spine was straighter. His expression turned determined. "Only one more year. Really, it's only nine months, not a year. I can do that. Then I'm outta East High."

There was her Jean.

The guy who always tried to look on the bright side of things.

Jean wasn't always the smartest guy in the class, but he was a good student. He was hard working and threw himself into everything with enthusiasm. He was a natural born speaker, and while Riza tripped over her words with every damned presentation she had to give to the class, Jean breezed through it easily with a confident smirk on his face. While Riza shook like a leaf in front of everyone, Jean was a pillar of strength.

They didn't share many classes together – which was probably best for their teachers, because they'd been told off a number of times for giggling together – but when they did, she felt herself more comfortable among her peers with Jean by her side. It irritated Riza no end, but she was more confident in speaking with her oldest friend by her side. It was very strange. And annoying, but not because of Jean. Because of her.

And in experiments he excelled. The practical, hands-on parts of learning, he was a natural at them. His top marks were in his science classes. It was the paperwork he was slower to complete, but he always did so, and stayed at an average grade of a B, at the very least.

"I wonder what else the new year will bring?" Riza thought aloud as she picked off another grape.

"It's our last year, so it better be a good one."

"Let's make it a good one, then," Riza proposed.

"Deal."

Jean held out his pinkie finger for Riza to grasp with her own. She did with a laugh, cementing their promise to enjoy their last year of school. It had become their ritual at the end of every summer.

"Looks like we might be getting some fresh meat this year too." Jean jerked his head to the right. "New people moved in two doors down." He turned, straightening his spine to peer over the garden fences. "That house there. With the trampoline."

"In our year?"

Jean shrugged. "Might be. The guy looked about our age. Mum was talking to the woman a few days ago."

Jean's phone buzzed in his pocket and he retrieved it, putting a hold on their conversation.

"Half five," he announced, "Mum finishes in half an hour."

Dismissing the alarm, the pair stood and Riza began tidying up their miniature picnic.

She knew the drill. Marie never asked for or expected a lift home from work at the hospital, but Jean did it every time when he wasn't at school. Riza didn't have much else to do on her Sunday afternoon so always liked to join him. She was staying for dinner with them anyway. Jean had everything and ready to go. Before hopping out onto the roof to soak up the sun, they'd both spent their day preparing dinner for the three of them. All they needed to do when they came home was put the stew pot in the oven for an hour.

Riza was already smiling, picturing Marie's face when she saw what they'd done.

It happened every Sunday, near enough, but Marie never expected it. It was always a delight to see her reaction and to see how pleased and happy she was that dinner was out of her hands for the evening.

Once in the kitchen, Riza started washing their glasses while Jean piled up everything to go into the bins outside.

"Remember about the apple cores," she called over her shoulder with a grin as he stepped outside.

"Yeah, yeah," Jean waved over his shoulder as the door closed. She heard the sound of the outdoor bin closing and caught him walking further down the garden onto the grass to find his discarded cores.

Jean's house wasn't in the most expensive neighbourhood, but it was modest, and it was cosy. As soon as Riza stepped in the door, she felt right at home. Books littered almost every surface, Marie having ran out of room in the massive bookshelves that sat on either side of her old fireplace. They spilled out from them too, some placed on top of the rows and crammed in every space available. There was every genre to choose from, and Marie made it well known that Riza was welcome to read any of them, if she'd like. Riza had already made it through the top row of the left bookshelf.

Knick knacks were aplenty as well. There were so many photos of Jean and his parents. Riza was in a few too, with Marie and Jean, which she'd been very surprised about upon first noticing it. It had baffled her, but Jean just rolled his eyes as if it were an obvious addition.

She truly was one of the family.

In short, his house looked lived in and well loved. Riza's was the opposite. It was much larger than Jean's house, a new development which had been added onto the old neighbourhood near where Jean stayed. It looked like every other house in the street – boring and modern. Why her father had bought a house with four bedrooms when there was only two of them, Riza didn't know. Her father didn't even have enough possessions to fill it. Every room was modern, but empty. There were no photos. The books in the bookshelves looked like something out of a show home – just there to fill out space and give it character. There was no character in that house. No love. It was barren and cold.

Nothing compared to Jean's house.

If Riza could, she'd stay there all the time. She loved his house and the people in it. They'd both brought her so many happy memories over the years that Riza would remember and cherish forever.