Disclaimer: I do not own any of the charecters in the FMA fandom

Warnings: Rated M for swearing, attempting suicide, and male kissing. This is slight yaoi (a relationship consisting of two men) Don't like yaoi? Don't read because this story has a lot of homosexuality at the end (nothing too sexual).

Summary: Whenever Roy Mustang went back to his tent it was never dark, there was always a light to guide him. But one day the light is gone and when he walks in, he sees Hell in the guise of a near death experience.

Hellfire and Brimstone

Roy was walking back from patrol, the thick liquidity of blood attracted to the cloth of his uniform. He hated killing, more than he ever thought that a human could, but it was war damn it, there were lines that he had to cross to protect his country.

As he approached the tent he knew there was something wrong. The first implication was that it was dark inside yet Kimblee had come back early. It wasn't like him to call it a night at only eight o' clock. He always at least lit a candle as he sat on the cot with a grin. He always waited to see Mustang come back at him.

He must have had a long day. Roy thought as he walked into the tent, but what he saw was far from what he wanted. There was Kimblee on the ground unconscious with an empty scotch bottle next to him and by the looks of it, he wasn't breathing.

"Crimson!" Roy yelled as he ran toward Kimblee's body placing a hand on his face. Shit, he's starting to get cold.

Roy thought for a second, could this be suicide? Was Kimblee trying to kill himself after all of the pain of the times of war? No, not Kimblee who got that look of euphoria in his eyes whenever the blood of the innocent painted his flesh. Not Kimblee who never showed an ounce of remorse throughout his mindless slaughters. He was so content with his life, there was no way this was self induced.

"Zolf J. Kimblee, this isn't even funny anymore!" Roy shouted shaking Kimblee's body. "This isn't even funny. Damn it, Crimson, don't you dare die on me! Speak to me."

He pressed his hands up against the other alchemist's chest trying to circulate the blood throughout his body to bring him to life. The gurgling noises that he got out of his body made him understand what was happening, he was still alive, but his lungs were giving out on him,as ifhe were choking. Time was of the essence, Roy didn't even know how long his tent mate had been laying there.

Please, please don't do this to me. Not like this! You can't die like this! Roy placed his lips to Kimblee's breathing in lightly. He watched Kimblee's firm chest rise and fall with every breath from Mustang's body, he was responding to the contact.

You can do it, Crimson, breathe Goddamn it! Roy cried as he blew into his mouth harder and harder, Kimblee still not responding. The young alchemist only pushed firmer onto his chest his eyes watering, "Damn it, Crimson! I don't want you to go like this. We need you… we need you."

With a cough Roy lifted himself off of his body watching golden eyes water with pain. Whatever he had done to himself that made him fall to the ground and start to die was bad enough to actually do the job. He watched Kimblee vomit as he himself started to cry.

"What the fuck did you think you were doing?" Roy asked slapping Kimblee across the face, "What did you do?"

Kimblee let out short labored breaths as he tried to answer, but he couldn't find the strength, "I… I don't know…"

"Don't lie to me!" Mustang cried clasping Kimblee's broad shoulders tightly, shaking him, "Don't you dare lie to me! Tell me what you were doing to yourself while I was gone. I thought that you weren't feeling well."

"Fuck you…" Kimblee scowled still panting.

"I want you to tell me what you were doing, Crimson." Roy answered, "I want you to tell me what you did to make you start die. Were you trying to kill yourself?"

Kimblee looked away as he tried to climb back onto the couch to relax after being unconscious for nearly ten minutes. The lack of color to his face made Roy know what was going on, it was supposed to be suicide.

"Tell me what's on your mind," Roy begged cupping Kimblee's cheek, "tell me what caused you to do this to yourself. What did you use? Tell me!"

Kimblee swallowed hard as he looked into Mustang's eyes, "Aspirin…"

"Good God…" Mustang whispered drawing back his hand covering his mouth in shock, he remembered when Kimblee went to Marcoh asking for aspirin for his headache, "…you were trying to poison yourself with those pills that Marcoh entrusted to you for your pains?"

"And alcohol." Kimblee continued.

"You actually allowed yourself to swallow gratuitous amounts of alcohol while you had those fucking pills in your mouth. Damn it, Kimblee! Your stomach could be scarred." He placed a worried hand on Kimblee's abdomen. "I wouldn't sleep if I were you."

"Why not?" Kimblee asked.

"The drugs are still in your system whether you vomited or not, you could fall into a coma at any second," Roy answered, "please, I don't want to lose you, Crimson." He looked up to catch the Crimson Alchemist's glance, "I… can't to be alone."

Kimblee could feel the younger alchemist's breath close to his lips, tantalizingly close. He couldn't give in to this feeling, this passion, he couldn't allow him to have his way like this, if anything was going to happen he was going to start it.

"I could go get Dr. Marcoh," Roy panted as he drew away, "the scars inside of your body haven't formed yet. I just think it's reckless…"

"I was trying to kill myself," Kimblee whispered, "anything to stop all of the urges going through my body. Don't you see, Flame? I'm dying on the inside and I don't know how much more I can take of this life. Are you happy now?"

"You're trying to end it…?" Roy asked sarcasm thick in his voice. "But why, you're such a wonderful alchemist."

"I don't want to cause anymore trouble than is necessary," Kimblee continued his voice breaking, "and sometimes at night I look at you, Flame, and the voices tell me that I should kill you. That I should run over and make you explode. But then I look at you I get this warm feeling. There are times when I even… lose it."

"You have dreams about me?" Roy asked, "Erotic ones?"

Kimblee nodded, "Sometimes I want to do something about it."

"Like what?" Roy asked with a smile.

"Touch you, hold you, kiss you," Kimblee answered. "In my dreams I even… fuck you."

Mustang blushed as he looked at the other alchemist, "You think that Marcoh can do anything for you?"

"Changing the subject, this is what I feared," Kimblee closed his eyes. "You're terrified of me aren't you? You're scared because I told you that I struggle every night just so I won't kill you."

"It's not that… it's…. you've been hiding your feelings for so long," Roy whispered his hand still situated on Kimblee's stomach. "And all of this time I've been ignoring you like you didn't matter. I'm sorry if I did this to you."

"You didn't…" Kimblee placed a hand on top of Mustang's, "I did it to myself."

Onyx met gold in a passionate connection as Kimblee's breathing became ragged, sexual almost. Roy picked a hell of a time to come back from patrol; he just had to come back before Kimblee was dead. But as the stare deepened he knew that he was lucky to have come so early because looking at him right now felt so right.

"I'm not queer," Roy whispered. "Nothing is going to come of this."

"I understand," Kimblee breathed.

Roy kissed Kimblee's forehead, "I'm lying to you, I've been hiding my feelings from you as well."

"Fucking minx," Kimblee responded.

The two held each other as Mustang rolled onto the cot with his tent mate, stroking Kimblee's face gently. It was getting too deep for either of them to handle, no way in hell should they have let it get like this. But this time the contact was so close that their lips touched in a light kiss, igniting the spark.

Kimblee's eyes lit up as they separated his dangerous hands up against Roy's shoulders, the latter was shaking in need as he drew closer again.

"You're lips are so warm," Roy moaned as he kissed Kimblee again pulling him closer to his body. "You want me don't you?"

"More than life," Kimblee breathed as he moved in between Roy's legs kissing him deeply, his tongue wrestling with the Flame Alchemist's to become the dominant man of the kiss. And the purrs coming out of Mustang's throat weren't proving him wrong.

Damn, I should come back to the tent early more often; I've never tried this before with him. Mustang thought as he rubbed his gloved hands up against his tent mate's muscular chest, "You feel better about yourself now that I'm here?"

Kimblee nodded, "You have that affect on people, so fucking perfect," he kissed Mustang's neck. "And no matter what I do, it's all hellfire and brimstone from here."

Roy let out a low moan because he knew Kimblee was right, they would be damned for this. But in the end of it all would he really care just as long as he has a body to keep him warm in bed? Hell, even he knew that question was rhetorical. But like Kimblee said, it was all hellfire and brimstone from here on out.

AN: I'm really starting to like this pairing, so loveless yet so romantic...