spontaneous combustion
Characters: Reine Hamilton, Zolf J. Kimblee
Summary: It's madness.
He could easily name hundred rules and regulations which were all against the fact that there was a pair of hot lips pressed against his neck and that sharp nails were merrily destroying his back – and those were only the rules of the military. He also assumed that quite a few social norms might be against this. Not that they cared. She was a major general and no one had even dared to question her so far.
Maybe it was because she was even more than he was and that no one wanted to attract her attention because those who accidentally ended up in the centre of her interest suffered badly. The only one who had raised an eyebrow when she had smirked smugly when he had not been able to lean against a wall during a conference had been this crazy redhead who brought terror and fear with her lightening bolts. But this woman was the only one who seemed to be unoccupied enough to notice something.
It was strange how he did not mind that she was twenty years older than him, forty-something to his twenty-three. Then again, how could he mind? She was the only one to understand him and their understanding worked on so many levels that he might even consider her as the part of his soul he was – according to Mustang and Grand – missing.
He wondered if someone but the red-haired nuisance was able to understand what was going on but then he remembered that annoying captain with the letters and the little sniper girl who had both a certain sense for interesting things. Then again, he tried everything to uphold the image of a strictly professional relationship between him and the major general, refraining from calling her by her first name when someone else might hear them and he had never questioned her authority over him because she was still his superior and he respected this fact.
He groaned as her fingernails cut through his back once again and she smirked at him. She was cruel – against everyone and everything and yet, he did not mind because her cruelty was tenderness to him. She was a strong woman, someone who had to be in control the entire time because otherwise, she would fall apart and he could respect that.
They had no secrets from each other. He knew why she was so obsessed with his destruction it was because she had rarely met someone who was an actual challenge before and she had destroyed those before him: her brother and her oldest daughter. And that she could not break him the way she had shattered the other two alchemists made her restless, made her bite his neck – always so that it was just hidden under the collar of his uniform – and whisper his name.
It was not love, however.
She sometimes slipped and hissed her ex-husband's name as her nails cut through his back. So this was revenge, too. Not that he minded this at all. The Element Alchemist – a regal and stoic man with bright red hair and deep green eyes – was a successful man with enormous skill and to be his successor in any way was flattering – even though he might prefer the rank of a lieutenant general because this was a sign of true brilliancy of a state alchemist – to be successful off-battlefield and out of the laboratory as well.
What they had was no romance, he mused as his grip bruised her skin. It was – while sexual – strangely pure because their reason was not lust or some carnal instinct. No, she was simply someone like him, a kindred spirit in madness. Cruelty was their tenderness and no one else could understand this because no one else was like them.
They were the mad ones – and the only ones who had found a soul mate within the struggles of the war in Ishbal.