Half Empty was written for the livejournal community, FMAexchange, committed to having writers think and write outside the box. It is currently being judged for the July/August Session.

Caution: Contains Yaoi/Sexual Interaction Between Two Males. If you don't like, don't read, and certainly do not bother complaining.

I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.

The bar was dark and dusty, but the Colonel didn't mind. It was obvious to the bar maids that he didn't as he frequented it several times a week. They didn't mind either; a handsome face was a rarity among the nightly crowds.

Except the Colonel hardly ever spoke, only if he wanted to change his drink order from his usual. Which he almost never did. He just sat at the same table every night, drinking glass after glass of brandy, never speaking. He just stared off into space, looking as if he were far away.

That night was no different. Mustang kept his eyes to his drink, occasionally tracing the rim of the glass with his gloved finger. He was hardly aware of the rain dripping from the hem of his long winter coat. Steadily, it weaved its way down his boots and onto the floor leaving a small puddle beneath the scratched table

"Roy, are you trying to kill yourself?"

The colonel looked around for the source of noise. A tall, lanky individual stood beside him, with dark hair, thick lashed green eyes, and a goofy smile on his face. Maes Hughes slid himself into the booth beside his friend, and clucked his tongue. With a quick glance at the Colonel, Hughes pushed the half empty glass of brandy to the other side of the table, out of Mustang's reach.

"Drinking can kill you, you know, just as much as a war can."

Roy grunted and reached for the glass, prompting Hughes to push it farther out of the man's reach.

"Maes, I've had a rather hard day at work, and I would prefer it if you didn't lecture me on the lack of health benefits from drinking." Mustang scooted away from the bubblier man, and pressed himself into the corner. "Fullmetal lives to make my life difficult, I swear."

A knowing smile crossed Hughes' face. "You used to say that about me as well, I recall. Of course, that was back when we were in the academy. Back when we were more than we are now."

An uncomfortable silence fell between the men as Roy recalled exactly where Maes was leading him. Darkened classrooms, and quiet corners of the Academy grounds rushed through his mind. He shook his head, and eyed Hughes.

"It was more than you wanted once you met Gracia."

Hughes laughed. "You never wanted anything more than what it was."

"We always agreed to never want more," The Colonel whispered. "Why are you here, Maes? You haven't come here since we finished…."

With a grin, Maes grabbed Roy by the arm, and pulled him from the booth. Roy tried to jerk back, but Maes as always was stronger than him, and Hughes led him away from the table, to a back door. He pushed it open ignoring Roy's protests. They had gone outside, into a dimly lit alleyway. Hughes released his grip on Roy's arm, as the Colonel looked around.

"Hughes, what the hell did you bring me out here for?" Roy snapped.

"Shut up, Roy," Hughes growled, pushing the Flame Alchemist against a dirty wall as he pressed his mouth to Roy's.

Roy grunted, his hands on Hughes' chest to push him away. He was torn between anger at the audacity of the man who had walked away from him all those years ago, and his physical need for the human contact. He closed his eyes as Hughes snatched both of the alchemist's wrists into his own large hands, and forced them above Roy's head. He kept them closed as he felt Hughes' mouth traveling down his neck to his chest. It was a credit to Hughes' sexual prowess that he did not need his hands to pull open Roy's shirt.

Friends and secret lovers, Roy laughed silently to himself, only until Hughes had found the love of his life, Gracia. It was cliché, but it was how his life had gone. He found when looking back on his life, he did truly enjoy the cliché-ness of his time with Maes, even if the man did not love him like he claimed he did. Mustang couldn't deny that he hadn't missed their random encounters as well, which had ceased to occur the moment Hughes learned he was to become a father. There was no room inside Maes' heart for an in the closet, lonely, power hungry soldier, Roy had told himself, so he had contented himself with a good friendship.

Mustang gasped out loud as he felt the tip of Maes' tongue trace around his nipples, and down his stomach. He was dazed by the dangerous cocktail of half a bottle of brandy and the sensations coming from the man in front of him. So much so, he had hardly been aware that Hughes had released his wrists and bound them with his belt behind his back. He bent his head forward. The dark head of his friend was poised at his waist, busy undoing the zipper of his uniform slacks. His cock, red and hard, jutted forward immediately as if standing at attention, awaiting orders from its superior officer.

Maes laughed. "Always at the ready, Roy."

Roy would not dignify him with an answer. Instead he just bucked his hips forward.

"Patience, Colonel Mustang, is a virtue." Hughes teased, taking the long hard shaft into his hand and stroking.

Torturous bastard Mustang hissed in his mind. Somewhere nearby he could hear the rowdy shouts of drunken men, and he felt his body stiffen. Get on with it, Maes!

As if he was reading Mustang's mind, Hughes yanked the Colonel's pants down to his ankles, and shoved him forward so that he was bent over a trash can. He felt a finger tracing around his opening, before sliding in and then back out. Hughes repeated this action several more times, before give a throaty laugh.

"You never did mind a little tearing, did you?"

Before Roy even had a chance to protest that it had been quite a while since anyone had used that entrance, Hughes reared back and plunged into his friend. Roy let out a groan that echoed off the alley walls. Hughes laughed, as he grasped a bit of Roy's hair in his hand, and pulled the man's face to his. As he sucked on Roy's lower lip, Maes thrust savagely inward again and again. He felt a warm sensation around his own member, and knew that he had torn Mustang enough that he had bled.

"Go on! Finish it!" Roy cried roughly.

Roy heard his friend laughing and felt his penis ready to explode. It was a pleasure only Maes could give him; it was a pleasure he only wanted from Maes…

"Colonel Mustang?"

The Colonel lifted his head from the sticky booth table, and shifted his fuzzy gaze to the young woman standing beside him. She gave him an apprehensive smile, before touching his arm lightly.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but we're closing for the night."

Roy nodded, incoherently. He got unsteadily to his feet, and slowly scanned the room. It was empty but for the bar staff. Maes Hughes was nowhere to be found. As he looked down at his pocket watch, he remembered why. Maes Hughes was dead. Had been for many months. Roy nodded to the young woman who had informed him of the closing, before making his way out of the bar and onto the street. Maes Hughes had not come into the bar that night. Maes Hughes had not taken him into the alley.

Maes Hughes had died, never knowing how much Roy Mustang, Colonel, Flame Alchemist, had truly loved him.