Chapter Text
Roy Mustang tried, and admittedly failed, to not glance at the large clock hanging by the bar entrance every few seconds. It was a few minutes past 3 in the afternoon and she was never late.
He washed his hands and rearranged the bottles on the top shelf for the nth time, his fingers simply itching for something to do. They weren’t due to open for another hour but… He huffed at his own impatience.
It wasn’t like she made the appointment with him. It wasn’t his bar even though it was owned by his foster mother.
He all but jumped the moment he heard her heels clicking against the tile. It didn’t matter what season it was, Riza Hawkeye always had some type of heel on her feet. He smiled when she stopped in front of the bar counter, her companions rolling in their deliveries behind her.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said, her jaw tight.
He grinned, waving off her apology. “Timing’s impeccable, Hawkeye.” He knew she ran a tight ship and usually arrived with their bi-monthly supplies at 3 in the afternoon. She said it gave them time to tally their inventories before the customers rolled in.
He allowed himself to take in her outfit: heels, of course, her long hair in a tight ponytail, trademark work jacket and slacks with crisp white blouse.
Roy rounded the counter and started opening the boxes to count the contents of each, a farce he’d come up with years ago to ensure she stayed a few minutes longer than necessary. Riza was efficient and not once had made an error as to the quantity of their orders.
Hawkeye Distribution Company, Madame Christmas’ liquor distributor, was established and headed by Riza’s father, and it was all but given that she would take the reins eventually. Roy though had always admired the fact she preferred to work hands-on, opting to meet with her clientele face-to-face during deliveries even if it wasn’t necessary. He knew her old man never went to such lengths.
She slid the delivery receipt on the counter as he opened the next box and shouted for Vanessa, Madame Christmas’ Head of Operations… but more importantly, she was also one of the bar owner’s foster kids like he was.
Vanessa came from the back office with her hair half done to greet Riza by touching their cheeks together. “I don’t know why you insist on calling me everytime, Roy boy,” she mocked, using their foster mother’s nickname for him when they were kids, and signed the delivery receipt. “We’ve been doing this for awhile.”
Roy huffed, but kept his eyes down as he counted the bottles in the last remaining box.
Riza was conscious when she hopped on a bar stool, clicking her knees together even though she wore a pantsuit. “It’s better that you don’t trust me. This is still a business arrangement.”
He heard Vanessa chuckle at that and narrowed his eyes. He pretended to do a recount of the last box.
Luckily for him, she didn’t say anything other than, “Business, I see.”
“Is everything in order?”
He straightened his back and nodded, gesturing for the delivery guys to follow him and haul the boxes to their stockroom. The last shred of conversation he heard between the two women was the upcoming alignment meeting and some small talk.
“I don’t suppose you’ll stay for a drink? It’s on the house,” said Vanessa, nodding at him once he’d returned behind the bar. “I’m sure Roy would love to give you something .”
His eyes flashed at her in warning.
“Like a gin and tonic? Martini?”
“You do have a fresh batch of gin.” She smiled. “Though if I took you up on that offer of ‘it’s on the house’ each time, you’d be nowhere near breaking even.”
“We’re lucky you don’t abuse our hospitality… but it’s Saturday and Roy isn’t going anywhere.” She smirked at Roy and he glued his fists to his sides to stop from smacking his adopted sister.
“Come on, you always get at least one drink after a dropoff.”
Riza checked her watch. Professional down to her core, watch, cellphone, and pen were always on hand. Roy had been surprised and amazed at the countless times she managed to pull out something they needed in the middle of a meeting or a delivery.
“I’m meeting a friend —”
Was it a date? He felt his stomach do somersaults.
“Here, actually, in an hour. She said this was ‘ the ’ bar to be on a Saturday night.” She gave them a small smile.
Roy knew it meant that she was genuinely happy for them.
“So stay.” Vanessa snickered and booped Roy’s nose as she walked away.
He swallowed the lump in his throat, feeling like he’d forgotten every drink and every cocktail recipe ever known to mankind.
She seemed to take it easy on him. “Coffee for now, the sun is still out. But please open my tab. Don’t listen to your sister.”
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It was the first time in weeks since Roy felt happy during happy hour. Customers were always too loud before the sun had even set and spilled drinks everywhere during that time - even though their bar wasn’t that kind of bar.
Music? Yes. The kind you jump around, barely hearing your own voice even though you’re shouting? No.
Today, though, nothing could dampen his mood. With each drink he laid out on the counter for one of the servers to bring to the tables, he went to the corner where Riza hadn’t moved from since she’d dropped their new inventory. They were old friends, conversation was easy and fun… but Roy knew he enjoyed it a lot .
She snapped her fingers, eyes squinting adorably up at the ceiling, visibly trying to recall something. “What was it called?”
He chuckled, it was a joy to get her rolling in conversation like this. No topic ever seemed too taboo and one was assured everything stayed between them. “Balls… Butty Balls.”
“Yes! Oh my.” She flicked the corner of her eye.
Was she that amused? Nonetheless, he enjoyed the sound of her voice and identifying the tiny lilts after she started drinking alcohol. He had just laid down her second gin and tonic when she raised her hand and waved at the squealing brunette at the entrance.
“You don’t want a table?”
“No,” Riza hugged her friend, “unless you do?”
She jumped up on the bar stool beside Riza.
He’d never seen any two women so different. Riza, in her pantsuit, had discarded her work blazer sometime in the middle of their conversation. Her white blouse was a little worn (since it was the end of the day) though her posture and demeanor screamed nothing but of her stalwart nature.
Some of her blonde baby hair were trying to slip out of her tight ponytail so she kept smoothing them back with her fingers.
Leave it , his mind rallied, itching to pull the rubber tie holding the rest of her straight hair.
Her friend was a contrasting story, from their hair to their choices in wardrobe. Also in a ponytail, her curly waves only served as a sharp contradiction to Riza’s mane. Where Riza looked every bit of the ‘just got out of work’ young professional, her friend opted for a sleeveless dress that hugged her tight — a good choice for a Saturday.
When he finished lining up shots for a group of college kids, he caught himself looking at Riza. Again. For the entire night, no matter how much Roy was flagged down by orders, requests to clean up, and the one sloshed patron he and a waitress had to carry into a cab, his eyes never strayed too long from Riza and her friend.
So much so that anytime either of them even had the inkling to ask for another round of drinks or food, he was there in the snap of a finger.
“No wonder the place has nothing but good things about it. The bartender’s quick,” he overheard Riza’s friend say.
He returned with their most recent orders and Riza finally caught his eye and realized she hadn’t said anything about them knowing each other.
“Oh, Roy, sorry ,” he stood near enough to know her breath came with the citrus undertones of the gin she’d been drinking. “This is my friend, Rebecca. Becca, Roy.”
“You know each other?”
“Hi.”
“ How ?”
“We distribute alcohol…” Her finger circled over the counter, “here.”
“And you didn’t tell me?!” Her hand shot out to slap her shoulder. “I’ve been drooling all week about this bar.”
“I know.” She didn’t look fazed at Rebecca’s pout. “Was happy to know your honest opinions before you knew I worked for them.”
“ With us.” He cleared his throat, unable to stop himself from wedging into their conversation — a clear transgression of one of the rules of bartending. “You work with us. It’s a win-win situation,” he quoted the last part directly from Berthold Hawkeye from one of their meetings.
His stomach clenched at the rare sight of Riza Hawkeye being surprised. Her cheeks were colored from the alcohol they’d been consuming, but her eyes remained clear. He couldn’t tell if it was forced semblance of sobriety or actual sobriety, but was impressed nonetheless considering how long she’s been drinking.
“So you aren’t just a pawn for show of force.”
“My aunt will be pleased to hear.”
“Do you have plans of taking over?” asked Rebecca.
He slyly grinned at Riza. “Maybe when she does.”
She scoffed. They both knew her apprehensions about heading her father’s company much the same way Roy had refused to share Vanessa’s job title. “Maybe after you stop hiding behind Vanessa.”
Touché. He turned with a tinge of regret when one of the servers tapped on the counter with more drink orders.
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Roy came back from a restroom break to find Riza, Rebecca, and Madeline, one of their servers, bent over the counter. Madeline had a smug smile at the excitement and cheers Rebecca and Riza were throwing her way.
“What’s going on?”
“Dime in a bottle,” said Madeline, shaking an empty beer bottle so that he heard the clinking of metal inside glass. “I missed hanging with Riza, thought I’d bring out my tricks to make her stay longer.”
Riza laughed at that. “You act like I haven’t been here last week.”
“You were working with Roy about his shelves,” she whined.
“Shouldn’t you be working too?” Roy poked at her arm.
“Right,” she flipped her hair and waved at a customer trying to call for her. “You can keep this,” she winked, handing him the card she used for the trick.
He furrowed his brows and flipped the card over, gulping when he saw it was Riza’s business card. Though they’ve been friends since their business transactions started (and he’s had his eye on her for around the same amount of time), he’s never had her number.
He breathed through his mouth, knowing without a doubt it wasn’t a pretty sight.
Was this her personal number?
She always coursed communications with his aunt and his sister. He wondered if Riza knew about his little crush like some schoolboy. Did Riza have a work phone and a separate personal phone?
He squared his shoulders and tried to give the card back to Riza in the last ditch effort to look cool when he felt anything but in the woman’s presence.
“Keep it!” said Rebecca, narrowing her eyes at him with a knowing smile. “Don’t you work together?”
Riza seemed to be clueless with the non-verbal communication going on between him and her friend. “I only did just realize we’ve never exchanged numbers.” Her hand smoothed down her pocket, patting her phone. “I’d be amazed if you could beat Vanessa and her memes.”
He blurted like the idiot he felt, “This is your personal phone?” More importantly, she had a regular text chain with his sister that wasn’t related to work?!
“I can’t afford to have two separate phones. Madeline once helped and sent me a guide on how to label my contacts, though.”
He glared at the back of Madeline’s head, animatedly chatting with a customer. He doubled down and wondered how many of the staff knew about his little crush like some schoolboy and were regularly texting with Riza behind his back.
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After a few rounds of alcohol and a lot of hours doing idle chatter with a few exchanging restroom breaks, Rebecca and Riza finally said their goodbyes to Roy and the others.
Roy felt an odd ache in his chest at sight of Riza’s bright and alcohol-glazed eyes, pink cheeks, and lazy smile. He cursed at his inability to offer to escort her home since his shift wasn’t over yet.
He settled in for the last stretch of customers since they were nearing closing time and there was the expected lull in their pace. “Shit,” he grabbed the credit card and purse from the corner. “Riza.”
He rummaged through the purse. No phone. He sighed in relief, immediately pulling her business card from his pocket and ruminated whether to call or text her.
Roy still simmered in his choices, the business card now a damp and mishandled item due to his self-frustration, even after the last of their customers had left for the night.
He sensed more than heard the click of heels against tile and looked up. Riza’s hair was pulled in a loose and low ponytail and her pantsuit was replaced with an extra large shirt and leggings paired with wedge sandals.
He knew his mouth fell open, not entirely sure if he’d been able to close it as she stopped in front of him.
“Did I,” she paused to swallow a lump in her throat, her brows furrowing at the effort, “Did I leave my bag here? I thought about texting or calling you, but I didn’t have your number.” She mirthlessly laughed.
“Yes.” He deposited the purse on the counter between them. “I, uh, I hesitated whether to call or text you.”
She went through her purse, checking to see if anything was missing. “Why?”
How about I like you but I can’t have you and if I can have you, we might lose this good thing we have now. He shifted his pants as subtle as he could. Riza looked like any other person their age in her casual clothes instead of her usual professional ensemble. It was refreshing to see.
And heaven help me, I want her either way. In any way. And what was it with this woman that triggered his inner teenager?
He chose to ignore her question and slid a glass of water toward her.
She ran a hand over her face. “Thank you… Do I look that drunk?”
You look beautiful. He shook his head. She had removed the makeup she had on earlier, not that a lot had changed in his eyes.
She drank the water, restless in her seat, her eyes scanning the bar. “Have you closed already?”
“Almost,” he eyed the clock, “I should probably do that.” The lights in the dining area were dimmed already and none of the servers loitered the floor anymore. He crossed the counter and locked the door.
“Come on,” he returned to her side and dared to place his hand on her shoulder, “Will you let me take you home?”
Her breath hitched and she squirmed under his touch.
He blushed. “Not home home! ” He pulled his hand away from her and raised his palms in the air. “I mean… I meant — driving, I’ll drive you home then I’ll go home. Separately. Alone… I live alone.” Shit.
She flashed him an uneasy smile. Gripping his hand tight in hers, she used him to pull herself up to stand.
Her cheeks were still flushed and she gaped at him with wide eyes, her forehead almost touching his lips. He didn’t want her to let go.
She didn’t.
Instead, she hitched herself up on her toes, looped an arm around his neck and pushed her lips toward his.
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After Riza’s apology for acting impulsive, Roy clarified whether she meant to be sorry for kissing him. To his utter delight, she didn’t regret the kiss and had admitted to wondering what it would be like for some time now.
The days that followed blurred together in Roy’s giddy, schoolboy-like mind. Riza had wanted to kiss him!
He took on the challenge of trying to make her laugh at memes he sent, trying to establish rapport outside work, only to be shot down each time.
“V sent that same thing yesterday,” read one of her messages. Of course, leave it to his sister to cock-block him.
They agreed to see where things went and not to rush putting a label on anything, though they both said they weren’t seeing anyone else other than each other.
“Thank you ,” said Riza, shedding her work jacket. On one of his days off, he asked if he could bring dinner over to her place. They had been spending a lot of time at his home or at nearby restaurants and wondered if it was time to invite himself over.
She rejected the offer, only to ask if it would be alright to have dinner at his place instead.
Again? But he had never agreed to anything so fast though. He’ll have her in any way he could.
He had fast food delivered against his better judgment because Madeline insisted and he was surprised it worked. Riza looked genuinely relieved to find him unpacking burgers, fries, and nuggets from slightly soggy paper bags.
He gave her free access to his small bar and almost felt his chest tighten when she handed him a whisky glass and set aside what looked like water — though he knew it was gin — for herself on his kitchen table. “You should be a bartender too.”
Her nose crinkled up at him. “I only know the basics.” She then kicked off her heels and sat beside him with a small groan, like she was trying to hold it in but couldn’t help herself.
“Long day?”
She took a slow and deep inhale and let it out with a huff. “All better now.” She smiled at him with one of those smiles that made his heart dance the mambo. “I wasn’t sure what I would do if I had to use any cutlery after today.”
Thank you, Madeline . He kissed her cheek. “Are burgers your favorite? Would have spared me the extra cash if I knew,” he teased. Their dates so far were from trendy and well-known places because he had wanted to impress her.
“No fuss is my favorite,” she said in between bites. “So yes, burgers.” She bumped the top of her head on his shoulder and sat back up. “I appreciated the others too.” She moaned and sighed in relief over her food, then pressed a napkin to her lips to muffle the sound.
Roy squirmed in his seat. Goddamn this woman. And goddamn him for letting his other head do the thinking. He swallowed down the rest of his drink.
Riza was talking about a book Rebecca had recommended her and was happy to find out he had read it before. “Just let me know if they end up together, come on , it’s been dragging for way too long .”
“No spoilers. If I can get through it, you can.”
She growled, the sound low from her throat. He shifted in his seat again, watching as she dined and replenished her drink.
His phone vibrated in his pocket but refused to take his gaze away from her chewing. How was it possible to get almost turned on by watching a woman chew greasy fast food?
His phone repeatedly vibrated again that it nearly slipped out of his pocket.
“Get it,” said Riza, tossing her burger wrapper into the paper bag it came in. “It might be an emergency with one of the girls.”
He unlocked his phone and… It was. But it was not a bad emergency.
He shot out of his seat with an excited whoop. “It’s Vanessa. Aunt Chris just reached her ROI on the bar. I thought it would take another two months!”
“That’s amazing!” She stood to hug him properly and he grabbed her and held on tight. “Do you… Do you want to go and celebrate with them? I’ve had a great night, thanks for dinner and —”
He laid his palm on her cheek and slid his thumb across her bottom lip, slightly reddish from the ketchup. “Can I kiss you?” They have been kissing at the end of each date and during the nights they snuggled on his couch, but they were all innocent enough. His plans tonight were nowhere close to innocent.
She sensed his intent, staring hard at his dark eyes. “Wait.” She wiggled against him, pulling a hand to her face and scrubbing her lips with the back of her hand. “Is it too late to get a mint? Or… or another shot?”
He chuckled at her preference to be presentable before leaning in and kissing her nose. “Please let me kiss you.”
She nodded and the next thing he knew they were both scrambling for purchase against each other’s clothing.
He pushed her until her back hit the wall as they lost themselves in the kiss. She tasted like gin and condiments and he wanted more .
Riza had somehow opened his shirt wide enough to run her palms against his bare chest. “Damn,” he murmured, the only thing he let slip before claiming her mouth again. His hand grabbed her breast through her blouse while the other found its way to her hair and yanked down the blasted ponytail holding it up.
Soft blonde strands tumbled around her and Roy’s resolve snapped. His hands fumbled with the buttons of her blouse and was rewarded with the sight of her heaving chest against a black lace bra underneath. The dual creamy mounds looked about ready to burst from their confines.
“Bedroom?” she asked, creating a slight distance between their huffing lips to ask.
“Mm.” He kissed her against her jaw, down the column of her throat, and her chest as far as the bra allowed. He unzipped her skirt and threw it on the floor, momentarily allowing himself to celebrate the sight of Riza’s pink lace panties.
The mismatched undies were disorienting, considering how she dressed herself. On the outside, his lust-filled mind screamed.
Roy grabbed hold of her ass and pushed her up against his body. She wrapped her lean and long legs around his waist as he carried her to his bedroom, his lips landing on wherever he could on her skin.
Her giddy laugh assaulted his senses as she latched onto a spot below his ear and nibbled her way down.
When they reached the edge of his bed, he settled her on her feet. “Are you sure?” He bit out, one hand fisting her blouse closed. He couldn’t bear to see any more of her body if she were to tell him ‘no’ at this point.
“Yes,” she breathed, yanking her blouse open and throwing the fabric on the floor.