Disclaimer: All rights go to the author of Fullmetal Alchemist and Funimation.

"Priorities"

secondhandsaint

'What about love?'

'There are more important things than love.'

'Really?'

There were more important things than letting himself get hot and flustered every time he has to deliver a report. He should be looking for the stone instead of into onyx eyes. Staying focused on returning his brother to his body, not imagining giving his own to someone who knew his darkest secret, was the most important thing. Alphonse was the reason he was in the military, the reason he carried that damned silver pocket watch, not the man who gave it to him. Alphonse was more important. He would do anything for Alphonse.

'Anything?'

'Even denying myself from him.'

It was his sin, his fault that his poor brother, his dear brother, was trapped in that cold, unfeeling shell. He took his family, ripped it to pieces and is now trying to place them back together. He's so selfish. He's so reckless and impure. Everything he touches ends up tainted and trying to clean up only stains them more. He knows he should keep his nose out of other people's business and not bite off more than he can chew, because he'll eventually have to fix things and he was already neck-deep in things to fix.

And he'd rather not make a mess out of something he thinks is good enough, especially when it wouldn't have a snowball's chance in hell anyway. They both had such hot tempers and two egos so big they can't stay in one room for long without cramping one another. They can't agree on anything except that they don't agree. They're too different and striking alike, they'd only end up strangling each other and then it would be too awkward afterwards.

'Not that it's not awkward already.'

'Awkward can be exciting.'

'No…'

He'd rather bite back the noises of his bliss alone at night and take cold showers in the morning. He'd rather tease and pout, goading the man into arguments than face the truth. He'd rather try to ignore the fact that this man has so much power over him. That he could make his breathing stop and hands shake and heart pound with just one damn look. That it scared him.

'That he can do this to you?'

'That I am powerless to stop it.'

So when Mustang pins him against the wall of an alley on the way back from a field investigation, when both are worn and ragged from the day's events, he doesn't protest. Lips cover his in a bruising kiss and his body responds in kind without hesitation. His mind is struggling to be logical despite the mind numbing power of the hands on his waist and the tongue against his lips. He rationalizes that it is just stress that is causing the Colonel to act this way, that there is no real emotion behind this. It is just physical, a distraction, and therefore not worthy of his attention when there is so much that needs to be done.

But the teeth on his neck make him cling closer, grinding his hips into Mustang's and tangling his fingers in inky hair. His red coat and black jacket pool at his feet and the bricks of the wall scratch against his back where his tank is pulled up. It is oh so pleasurable and one by one the excuses fly away like balloons with their strings cut. Rather than pushing away, Edward draws Mustang closer with hard kisses. Hard fingers dig into his thighs and his legs are wrapped around a sturdy waist.

Pleasure makes him shake as they catch onto a rhythm and Edward gasps as he throws his head back. Sweat drips down his neck and off his brow, Mustang's heavy breathing in his neck causing him to lose it. The contact, the closeness to the man he'd fantasized about for so long has him in knots. It is so damn good and so damn wrong and he wants it. For God's sake, he wants it.

A gloved hand snakes its way between them, undoing the belt at his hips and the buttons to his pants. The thrill of first contact makes him dizzy and he wraps himself tighter around this warm body. The next whisper of this husky voice makes him open his eyes.

'Edward, I need you.'

'I regret nothing.'

'Nothing?'

The words cause Alphonse's face to float before his eyes and he plummets back to reality. He is half undressed, arms and legs around his superior officer, grinding into his hand. This will not get him the Philosopher's Stone. This will not get Alphonse his body back.

He unwraps his legs from around Mustang's waist, earning himself a confused look. His lips caress the shoulder he'd been biting into before he pulls back, too afraid to look into those eyes. Mustang takes a step back and the cold air makes Edward shiver. A light push and he is separate from the man who made his knees weak. He stoops low and picks up the rest of his clothes, doing up his pants and walking away.

He can feel Mustang's eyes on his back and as he moves he gulps at the sinking feeling in his stomach and sees Alphonse's face in his mind.

I watch as the alchemist before me contemplates. In his mind an image of his little brother, the one he stands before me bartering his life for, clouds his eyes. I ask again.

'You regret nothing?'

For a moment I see him hesitate. Onyx eyes and the smell of smoke flashes through his mind's eye for the briefest of moments before he clenches his jaw and forces the image away. He looks up at the black doors containing all that is me, knowing what it means to enter them. His brother's image returns and his eyes narrow as he decides.

'Nothing.'