a/n: Time now to take my first jab at Hagane fic. Hopefully it isn't all that bad.

Self Immolation ---

Sitting in the dark was a past time to which Roy Mustang, the decorated Flame Alchemist, had become accustomed. Something about the emptiness appealed to him on a level that was far deeper than the thought his emotions were capable of reaching.

In his hand was the familiar feel of a glass, cold and wet with condensation. It soaked the palm of his left hand, rendering him useless on one side. Anyone with a sick enough sense of humor (which included Roy himself) would say that glass and its flame-alchemy nullifying effects were enough to make said alchemist almost half a man.

The inviting contents of the glass burned down Roy's throat like it did every first drink before. It settled deep down in hish stomach before rending a blissful loss of feeling that would have brought a one-time charming smile if Roy's mind hadn't been so occupied with more dark, unforgiving thoughts.

The turning of the door knob signaled the oncoming instrusion of a guest that had not been invited to Roy's midnight party of one. He knew beforehand that he would not turn her away. He never turned her away. She needed the release and the feelings as much as he did.

A strip of light fell on his body that sat propped against the side of his bed. He was on the floor where it was cold and uncofmfortable. But he was pleasantly numb, so it was all right.

"Why are you sitting in the dark?" she asked, shutting the door behind herself.

"It was nice until you ruined the moment," he commented roughly. "No one invited you."

"I know," she nodded. The lights were gone again and in the pitch black to which his eyes once again needed to be adjusted neither one could see the movement of the other.

The rustle of clothing and the soft steps of now-bare feet alerted Roy to just how close his intruder was. She crouched down beside him and reached a blind hand out into the darkness. Her palm touched his cheek in a soft caress that he couldn't help but lean into. Her skin was so soft and warm, and he was so very, very cold. It had been weeks, maybe even months since their last encounter.

"Don't be shy," she whispered, leaning over to nuzzle at his ear. "You need this."

She heard the ice in his glass clink almost musically as he sat the half-empty drink on the floor. Everytime he thought that he would push her away she always made up his mind for him. She took away all of his willpower and sucked dry the last collected drops of sanity like a vampire that steals life in the night.

Even as he stood on unsteady legs she was taking away his choices, reaching out for him in the dark. Her hands slid up his chest, pushing away the shirt that already hung unbuttoned on his shoulder. It fell to this elbows, catching on the bend of his arms that were open and inches away from touching the body that he knew was so wrong to touch.

He made no move to stop her hands as she raked her finers over his chest. She played briefly with the hair that tickled her fingertips before running her nails softly down the plane of his torso. She stopped at his waistband, waiting in the dark for any desperate reaction she knew he would make.

"Don't hold back," she said in an almost caring manner as she ran her hand over the sensitive skin of his lower stomach. The muscles there twitched in response.

Roughly, he grabbed her arms and pulled her against his chest. He was hungry and needy for the touch of a woman. His body wanted it, craved it.

"Roy-"

Their lips crushed togeter harshly, painfully in the darkness as his rough hands descended to her body. He pulled at clothing and ran his hands across flesh until nothing but the chilly night air surrounded her skin.

"We shouldn't be doing this," he murmmured against her lips as they fell back against the messy sheets of his standard issue military bed. She had already worked to free him of his other clothing restraints.

"When has that ever stopped us?"

His hesitation was his undoing. In that short second her arms locked tightly around his neck, pulling him down to her. The sensations had begun to catch up with him. Her writhing body underneath his was bringing about the desired results. It didn't take long for his mind to quit thinking, and soon after found himself lost in the sweet oblivion that he tried so hard to deny himself.

"This is wrong," he said breathlessly into her neck.

"Why do you always say that?" she groaned as he used his body to relieve them both of their tensions and frustrations. "Can't you just feel without thinking for once?"

"I'm not him," Roy said sternly, his body going still above her. "He's gone, Winry."

In the darkness he could make out her face and the scared eyes that looked up at him from the face of a fallen angel. She opened her mouth several times, searching for the right words.

"You don't know that," she said while shaking her head. "He came back once, he can do it again."

"I destroyed the gate mys-"

She pulled hard on his neck, reaching up to take his lips. The words were lost as she tried her best to make him forget. Locking her legs around his waist, she urged him to continue doing the only thing she could ever forgive him for.

After all, even though he was Roy Mustang, he was still a man that had needs.

As she lay there beneath him, flashes of a blond-haired someone flashed through her mind. If she closed her eyes and pretended hard enough, she could envision that same someone in the place of the body that shuddered and moaned above her. She knew he would be thinner, and much, much smaller, but this was as close as she would be. This man had known Ed. Their combined memories were enough for her troubled mind.

As she gasped and threw her head back, curling her toes in pleasure, the man above her thought of another as well.

In his mind, he could see a beautiful woman with golden hair and mahogany eyes. She was slender, but stronger than her body seemed to the casual glancer. She was his best friend and favored subordinate. She was also off limits due to fraternization rules within the code of military ethics. It wasn't fair to his aching soul.

But here in this place, with this woman, he could see Riza if he didn't look too closely through the darkness. Her gasps became angry whispers. Her cries like the sound of gunshots, bullets piercing through his very soul.

"Riza," he breathed.

Winry's eyes opened at the sound of the familiar name in her ear. It was common for Roy to lose himself and think of the blond-haired lieutenant in her place. She was only a replacement, after all. Just a body in the dark that would disappear before the morning sun would rise. The thought wasn't discouraging in the least, though. It was their cycle, the way they did things.

His breath hitched sharply and the movements that had been so furious moments before slowed to a gradual stop as the alchemist's satiated body slumped to the side of his bed partner's body. His breathing was as heavy as the guilt that weighed down his conscience.

He could feel the bed move as she got up to walk across the room. The bathroom light flicked on as she went inside to supposedly clean up. Through the tiny crack in the door he could see her as she studied herself in the mirror. In the silence he thought he could hear the sound of tears.

"Why do you keep doing this?" he asked afterwards as she stood near the end of the bed, buttoning her wrinkled shirt. It was getting later and her welcome had long since been worn out.

She thought carefully on her answer as she walked to the door. It wasn't a simple question to which she could casually respond. She came to him for a variety of selfish reasons.

"Winry?"

"Punishment," she said while grasping the doorknob. "You destroyed my family, and I'm destroying you."

The door closed softly as she left, bathing the room in the familiar darkness. It was comforting to know that he could hide from the world for at least a few more hours before normal life would resume. He would find himself in the company of his subordinates and she would be none the wiser as far as his emotional trysts were concerned.

Winry's words echoed inside of his head like the voice of an angry, vengeful god. She was doing a wonderful job of attaining her goal. A few more of these meetings and he would be nothing but a pile of ashes. In the meantime he would burn in the flames of his own self immolation. It was nothing less than he deserved.

--- Fin ---

a/n: Hopefully that wasn't too disappointing. Definitely wasn't how I intended this story to end up, but sometimes the stories write themselves. Next time around I'll make it happy.

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