A/N: I'm trying something new. Two things actually. A) More direct prose. B) No angst. Well, not a lot of angst... We'll see how this goes.
So without further ado, please enjoy my final submission for Royai Week 2018. I'll be updating this chapter fic throughout the day (as I write it). However, I'll probably leave one chapter outstanding because what I really need in my life is another unfinished chapter fic. How many is that now? I'm not even counting anymore.
P.S. I know nothing about ROTC that I didn't learn from a group of guys who lived in my apartment complex in college or an FAQ page. If you have critiques, please be kind. I'm happy to fix the things I got wrong though.
Chapter 1
Cadet Riza Hawkeye was in the habit of keeping her word. It was for this reason, and absolutely no other, that she found herself in dress blues, complete with the skirt, standing under a glittery homemade sign that read "In Uniform: A Kissing Booth." Suffice it to say Cadet First Lieutenant Rebecca Catalina was a bit too good at securing promises first and filling in the details later.
Granted, it could be worse. It could always get worse, Riza reminded herself as she accepted Jean Havoc's third ticket of the night. She could be the one doing the kissing instead of collecting the tickets. And, as Becca stressed (at length) if a fundraiser for St. Jude Children's Research Hospital wasn't a worthy cause, nothing was.
"When are you up, Hawkeye?" Jean asked as he enthusiastically took the next available place in Rebecca's queue. He threw a wry smile at his former compatriot, supported heavily by a pair of crutches.
Riza shot him a pointed look in return. "When are you re-enrolling in the ROTC, Havoc?"
"Touché." Jean chuckled raising his arms as much as his crutches would allow in mock surrender.
"I might around to it," he added with a matter-of-fact tone. "Near fatal car accidents have a way of putting things in perspective, Riza. And if I want something," he cast his gaze in Rebecca's direction, watching with soft eyes as she waved off her most recent suitor, "I'm done telling myself that I can't have it before I even try. And, if you don't mind me saying, maybe you should do the same. Screw the regs."
A blush crept up in the blonde's cheeks, and she shuffled the tickets in her hands with more interest than the small pieces of cardstock warranted. "I have no idea what you mean by that," she lied, but fate gave her little time to recover.
"Back again, Havoc," sounded a deep, dulcet voice from over Riza's shoulder. Several of the college co-eds in line stirred as Cadet Major Mustang greeted Jean and settled next to his cadet in the booth. A particularly petite brunette in a green cardigan and jeans chewed her lip in open anticipation. Hawkeye huffed under her breath, but she could hardly blame them. Whatever else could be said of him, Roy Mustang made the uniform look good.
"I don't want to have to tell you again," Mustang joked, "no more than three Mississippis and no tongue."
Jean could only shrug in response as he eagerly sidled up to Rebecca and tucked a wispy strand of raven hair behind her ear. Leaning into his display of affection, Becca sighed contentedly as the former cadet palmed her cheek and their lips met for the third time that evening. Hawkeye turned away as she tried not to think about where this would lead. Though she and Becca were finally out of the dorms and in separate bedrooms, their apartment walls were particularly thin.
"Can you believe those two," Riza said with exasperation. The irritated cadet all but snatched the next ticket out of an unsuspecting patron's hand and quickly directed her to Falman's stall at the far right of the booth. "How did Becca talk you guys into this?"
"The higher-ups aren't micromanagers about fundraisers, Hawkeye, and Catalina didn't tell me it was a kissing booth. She just promised there wouldn't be a repeat of last year if she had my support," Roy stated frankly.
Riza smiled smugly as a colorful memory replayed in her mind's eye. The dunking booth was also Rebecca's brainchild, and from a monetary standpoint, the event was a bona fide success. Of course, the ROTC program's triumph came at the expense of Roy Mustang's pride. An enterprising young Edward Elric had spent a large portion of that evening sending the then-cadet captain into a vat of cold water.
"I'm just as surprised as you are that the university approved this and helped secure the proper dispensations," Roy added with incredulity as he perused the spent tickets. "But, I don't think I can argue with these results. Tell me, how is everyone making out?" Riza's superior officer wiggled an eyebrow suggestively at his own cheesy innuendo, and the young markswoman couldn't help but giggle, if only for a second.
"The Elrics keep trading off, but Alphonse is bringing them in pretty steadily. Edward, not as much with his attitude and the, uh, height insecurities," Riza reported as she continued to collect tickets.
"Music to my ears," Mustang happily added. The dunking incident had cemented the older Elric brother's place on Mustang's shit list for the next century or so.
"Falman is holding his own, as is Catalina, obviously, but the real stand out of the night is Paninya Dominic." Hawkeye gestured to the stall farthest to the left and indicated a line six people deep. From the chair inside the open-fronted partition, the cadet zealously pressed her lips to the side of a freckled ginger's face. Riza took comfort in the fact that not every patron wanted to lock lips. "It's really not unexpected though considering she's a Paralympics medalist."
"That was Catalina's thinking," the cadet major responded. "Use her local celebrity to our advantage. But we should give her a break soon. How 'bout it, Riza? Are you up for some fundraising?"
It was far from the first time someone suggested that Hawkeye occupy one of the ladies chairs. Yet, as the worlds fell from her superior officer's lips, Riza flushed. The tips of her ears radiated heat like a furnace, threatening to singe a few stray pieces of her carefully secured hair. Hawkeye mentally ran through the list of reasons why she never responded to Roy Mustang's advances. Apart from the fact that he was both her superior officer and her father's research assistant, she reminded her inner schoolgirl that he was also a notorious flirt.
Still, her stomach turned over itself as she imagined her bed-headed major as the first person in line, ready and waiting to press his soft lips against… "Never going to happen," Hawkeye said abruptly, as much to herself as to Mustang.
"But uh… now that you mention it, Falman could use a break too, and I'd be lying if I said that a few girls haven't been asking about you. How 'bout it, sir?" Riza shot Roy a shrewd look and glanced toward the excited brunette to bolster her point. Though she looked on the younger side of things, the girl had been openly eyeing the officer up and down like a piece of cheesecake for the better part of two minutes.
"I thought I asked you to call me Roy when it's just the two of us," he quipped in a low, intimate voice. Mustang leaned in, but Hawkeye stood her ground as the air between them crackled with an unspoken attraction. No longer rattled but completely enthralled by him, Riza responded before she could censor herself.
"How 'bout it, Roy?"
"When you say it like that—"
"Ahem!" The pair startled and their heads snapped toward the stern blonde in front of them. The pads of her fingertips strummed against the wooden countertop and a condescending look was etched across her fine features. Pouty lips glistened with fresh lip-gloss under the string lights of the fairgrounds as she stood indigently before the cadets.
"Olivier," Mustang exclaimed, flashing the newcomer his trademark lopsided grin. "To do what do we owe the pleasure?"
Riza mentally chastised herself for letting her imagination get the better of her again. He's just a flirt, she thought. And if it was anyone besides you, he'd have said the same thing. Thankfully, Olivier Armstrong's thoughts traveled along the same lines.
"Spare me, Mustang," she pronounced curtly. Olivier nodded toward Riza, and Hawkeye returned her straightforward greeting in kind. "When my sniveling brother informed that Central University's ROTC program was hosting a kissing booth, I had to see it for myself. Such things would not be tolerated at Briggs State. Not on my watch."
"Fine," Roy stated professionally, reeling back his lazy tone in favor of an official timbre. "Is there something I can help you with Cadet Colonel Armstrong?"
"Well, now that I'm here, I do find one of your offerings intriguing," she said with a wicked grin as she produced a blue ticket.
"Now now," Mustang balked in mocking fashion. He pushed the ticket back toward Oliver with both palms exposed. "I can't allow you to manhandle one of my men, especially the little Elric over there. The shrimp's a fragile shellfish."
"Now I know you've been breathing in the chemicals too deeply, chemistry boy!" Olivier declared with incredulity. "Not them. Her!"
Oliver pointed toward the far left where Paninya had just puckered up for her last gentleman caller in line. As was her way, the blonde didn't wait for Roy's response. She handily brushed past Riza, slamming her ticket on the countertop as she crossed the booth's threshold. Yet, Olivier's movements lost their rigidity as she sauntered over to the tawny beige cadet with the confidence of a major general.
Using a sly smile that Riza had a hard time pairing with the severe cadet colonel, Oliver spoke causally with Paninya, placing a hand on her knee to test the waters. Roy rolled his eyes as he witnessed Olivier trace her thumb over Paninya's jawline, smoothly bringing their faces together until the motion blossomed into a deep kiss. Along with several passersby, Riza gawked in astonishment as Paninya's hips rolled forward, and Oliver openly explored the younger girl's backside.
"I think you better step in, sir," Riza said through stifled laughter. "I'm no expert, but I think that's more than three Missisippis."
Roy groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "It's just not my night, is it cadet?"