This is my first FMA story. A friend of mine recommended it to me and I can honsetly say that I'm completely obsessed with this anime now. Bye, bye, Naruto addiction :P (one of the reasons why I'm currently not able to continue my SasuHina fanfiction O_o)

Anime: Full Metal Alchemist/Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood...there really is no difference.

Characters: Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye

Pairing: Royai/RoyxRiza

Rating: T, due to mentions of sex, alcohol abuse and death.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, the characters or anything, for that matter...all I did come up with was the idea to write this.

Enjoy and bear in mind that English isn't my native language!

They stayed completely quiet while he drove her home, since her apartment was only a few blocks away form his.

His eyes were focused on the street before him stoically, without him making eye contact with her even once. He didn't even dare to look into the rear mirror because he'd see her from the corner of his eye if he did.

Pale hands were clasped around the steering wheel more tightly than usual, as if he feared that he might just slip off, as if he expected the ground beneath him to cave in to swallow him whole.

Frowning, his jaw clenched, he turned around the next corner, slowing, before stopping the car in front of the apartment building she lived in. Everything was done mechanically, almost unconsciously, out of habit, without him really realizing or having to think about what he was doing.

She knew that he was using every ounce of his remaining power to keep from breaking down in front of her, his trusted subordinate. But she knew him as more than her superior.

She knew him back when he was still a teenager, trying to leave his tragic childhood behind by leaving his hometown and his remaining family members and searching for power. She knew him as a young adult, who had been embarrassed to tell her about his ambitions.

She even knew him as the broken man he'd started to become during and after the Ishbal war, knew much suffering he had been ordered to cause, and the burden of guilt he had to bear.

And though they had always kept it a secret, she knew that his kisses were once clumsy and inexperienced, that his touches were experimental and didn't leave her panting back when it all started and hadn't even been close to the perfection he had obtained in the time after her father's death. But she didn't like thinking about that, because she felt jealousy boil within her, whenever she did. Because she loved him unconditionally, no matter how wrong that was.

She had become a killer for him, she would have died for him without hesitation, which would have been easier for her, than to take lives. And he valued her, trusted and respected her, and that was why they controlled themselves. For the sake of their positions, as he always said, although she knew that, in truth, he thought that the possibility of him actually falling in love with her was too high, if they had such intimate contact, and he couldn't afford to take that risk.

"Will you be alright?" she asked, keeping her voice low, stopping herself before she could lay a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. She knew what happened once he was this depressed, because she had witnessed it quite often. And she knew too well, that she wouldn't be able to bring herself to stop him from using her to ease his pain.

"Colonel?" She didn't call him by his first name on purpose, to keep a certain amount of distance between them. It was necessary and it would never change, no matter how often he asked her to simply call him 'Roy' once they were outside the office.

He looked up suddenly, the pain so clearly in his eyes that she had to fight the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked again, without breaking eye contact. His hands relaxed, trembling, before his fingers closed around the steering wheel again.

"Sure." He said, looking away and she knew from the sound of his voice that he really was convinced that he would be alright, once his stomach contained at least half a bottle of whiskey, instead of a normal dinner.

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that." She whispered, knowing that he understood what she meant. He didn't comment.

Sighing, she leaned back in her seat, knowing that she could simply get out and leave him alone. But although she trusted him with her life, she knew that she should never entrust him with his own life, which he was way too reckless with. In the end, he might end up drinking himself to death out of grief, and join his best friend Hughes, who had been shot last night.

Biting her lip, she made a decision she knew she'd regret.
"Don't you want to come in with me?" she asked, trying to make her voice sound neutral, but she knew that he had heard her silent plea for him not to follow her. After all, whenever they let their control slip, they both got hurt even more and felt betrayed by each other so much, that they wouldn't be able to meet eyes for at least week. Everytime they were so close to each other, they were farther apart afterwards and they both needed each other too much to be able to let the other go.

Shaking his head, he waited for her to exit the car and leave him to himself and the punishment he would put himself through for not being able to save someone so important to him.

"Roy." She said warningly, as if she could be mad at him if he turned down her offer, even though a huge part of her would have been glad.

He was surprised to hear his first name leave her lips. It made his eyes widen with the realization that she'd just stepped over the border they had put between each other. And just by saying his first name, she had touched him in a way that was more inappropriate, than if she had tried to grope him.

Because if she touched him physically, there was still skin between them, but if she touched what was underneath his skin, underneath all the facades and defences he had built around him, she was breaking all the rules they had set up and provoked him to cross the line as well.

And he hated her in some way, when she unlocked her front door to let him in. Hated her for calling him by that name, instead of just screwing him senseless right in the car, without touching him on such an emotional level.

So he took her roughly, nibbling at her neck and lips until she was fighting for breath, watching with a kind of evil satisfaction, as he dominated her and punished her for something he was just as guilty of doing, forcing her to drop all of her walls and watching her when she was weak, consumed by pleasure only he could give her.

He stopped her hand from wiping the tears that had started to form in his eyes, and he kept his mouth shut in a tight line, when he himself couldn't do anything but surrender to the pleasure that flooded through him.

He kept his back turned to her afterwards and waited for her breathing to slow down, before he reached for his boxers, putting them on before leaving the bed, shivering in the cold air.

Silently, mechanically, he gathered his clothing in the dark, dressing and turning to leave.

He stopped when he was at the door though, looking over his shoulder back at the blond haired beauty laying there in the bed alone, her angelic features soft, skin glowing in the pale moonlight.

Gritting his teeth, he turned around and bent down, placing a loving kiss on her soft lips.
"I'm sorry, Riza." He whispered, kissing her again chastely, before turning to leave.

That night, he lay awake in his bed, staring out of the window at the moon while licking his lips again and again, trying to savor what little of her taste was left.

Thank you for reading! Please review as a token of your appreciation.

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