Gold and Charcoal

Gold and Charcoal
Chapter 14
Home
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Beta: Tahariel
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Roy couldn’t hide a genuine smile when he stepped into the familiar apartment. It wasn’t so much the place itself but what it represented. The four of them had been living there for a couple of years now. It was comfortable and clean, the kind of place they only rented to normal citizens. Farman was the official tenant, it just so happened that the whore and his bodyguards he had once brought home had become permanent guests.

Farman had yet to complain about their presence but Roy still expected to be told Hughes and he had to leave about any day now. He figured that would be normal. Fury wasn’t a kid anymore; he didn’t need babysitters. Hughes often complained Roy was cold to the others but Roy had just never seen much of a point in wasting time bonding with people he would leave behind shortly. Of course, he had expected the expulsion memo to come sooner. Farman was far more tolerant than he had first thought. Or maybe the white-haired man didn’t want to upset the kid yet: Fury was overly fond of Hughes. At least Hughes was a good father figure.

As far as Roy was concerned, he’d done his share of fighting on Fury’s behalf. The kid had grown into an adult and Farman wasn’t half bad. It would be fine to move on and leave them together. But hey, if Farman was willing to stand them a few more weeks, all the better. Roy didn’t miss the precarious shelters mongrels usually put up with.

“Go wash your hair, the both of you,” Farman pointed at the bathroom the second the door was shut behind their group. “It was painful enough making sure nobody saw or recognized you, now get rid of those looks.”

“Going, going.” Hughes dragged Roy with him toward the bathroom. It almost shocked Roy to realize how small and simple it was compared to the Elric’s: it merely consisted of a sink with a cupboard and a few tiles leading to a bath that was also the shower. For a man who had never set foot in a bathtub until his twenty-sixth birthday, he was being amusingly critical.

They pulled their hoods back and dropped the cloaks – provided by Farman earlier - on the floor, shedding the uniforms piece by piece. Hughes nudged Roy into the shower with a bottle of special hair wash while he sat on the edge of the sink in nothing but a pair of briefs.

“This is terrible. I got in the place and didn’t even thought of snapping a few pictures. Nobody is going to believe me.”

“You’d only get soldiers on your doorsteps as soon as somebody rats you out.”

“True, true.” Hughes examined his glasses casually. “So, how does freedom taste?”

“Like soap, mostly.”

Hughes scoffed. “Ungrateful child.”

Roy laughed. “So, what have you guys been doing?”

“Not much. I take pictures, I sell pictures. It’s working alright. It’s amazing the number of brave citizens who cheat on their spouse.” He shrugged mockingly. “I thought they were supposed to be respectable. But it gives me business so I’m not complaining. Farman still has his boring desk job. Fury’s been working a little too, to help fill in for what you weren’t bringing in.”

“He hasn’t gone back to the street, has he?”

“Nah, you know he’s done with that. He was babysitting, if you can believe it. I don’t know, some merchant couple decided he looked like a nurse after he stopped their lost little girl from following a stranger. Heh. Guy probably would have sold her. Fury’s actually quite popular with the kids. Don’t ask me why.” Hughes pause and glanced at Roy’s shadow behind the curtain. “So, is it coming out?”

“Yeah, almost done.”

“You’re lucky, you only had that in your hair for an hour or two. It’s going to take me forever to wash mine out.”

“Just shave it,” suggested Roy. “ You already gave a kick to the stubble.”

“Not a chance.” Hughes pushed himself away from the sink. “Look, I’ll grab you some clothes so you don’t have to travel naked to the room.”

“Thanks.”

Five minutes later it was Hughes’ turn to scrub his head, slowly chasing off the gold color. It took him nearly half an hour but he beat the color out. He dried himself, jumped in a comfortable pair of jeans and went in search of the elusive clean shirt. He’d washed all of his clothes only two week ago, there had to be something left that wasn’t stained. Strangely, all his shirts seemed to have disappeared at once.

Hughes poked his head out of his room. “Fury! Did you touch my things again?”

“Your shirts?”

“Yes, those.” He stepped out, guessing where he could find said clothes.

“They were disgusting. I had to wash them.”

“I can wash my stuff on my own, you know,” remarked Hughes, peeking on the balcony. Sure enough, a dozen of shirts were hanging to dry. A black one was selected and tugged on despite its remaining dampness. “But thanks.”

“Going somewhere?” lazily inquired Roy, attempting to reinstate the imprint of his body in the couch.

“Just for a bit. I need to check something. I’ll be right back.”

Roy raised an eyebrow but otherwise didn’t react. Hughes was old enough to do as he pleased, he wasn’t in a position to tell him he was being an idiot. He might even have liked to join in, but he was sure it was useless.

“Guys, watch him while I’m away.” He gave a pat to Roy’s shoulder. “Try not to get kidnapped again while I’m out.”

Roy turned back to the others, looking at Fury with that evil expression of his. “So, Hughes told me you’ve been playing with kids. That’s cute. Want to adopt one yet? You’d be a good mother. As long as you don’t have to breastfeed, you’d be fine.” He rambled on, watching Fury progressively turn red and start stuttering under his teasing. He had to admit, he felt right at home.

“Kids fight, often refuse to respect their bed time, eat large amounts of food, never clean up and tend to get involved in various troublesome situations,” said Farman, rescuing his boyfriend. “I don’t believe we need any more of that sort of behavior.”

“I don’t make messes,” protested Roy, offended. He was a perfectly responsible adult. Somewhat. He was responsible when he had to be. Really.

“There were mushrooms growing in the pile of your dirty clothes.”

Roy twitched. “Well, I was busy dealing with violent blondies. I can’t be blamed for forgotten clothing.”

“It started to develop before you left,” reproachfully corrected Fury. “It was almost alive when we decided to sanitize the pile.”

“I’m only almost perfect,” offered Mustang, shrugging.

“We burned them,” added the smaller man.

Roy sighed. “This means shopping, doesn’t it?” Oh well. He had grown rather fond of the color black. A change of wardrobe would allow him to stock up on clothes of that color. Leather would be nice, if he could afford it. And gloves. He needed black gloves. Because.

Roy frowned, remembering a detail. “Wait, I’m out of cash, aren’t I? You must have used everything for the rent?”

“I’ll lend you some,” offered Fury.

“I better start looking for a job too, mn?” Things were going to return to normal then. Swinging from one job to another, hanging out with Hughes, teasing Fury. It was perfect.

Wasn’t it?

-

Edward came in grumbling about a violent, pitiless mechanic, alternately reaching to hold his automail port and swinging his hand away from it in pain. The whole shoulder was bandaged, spots of red indicating the multiple layers of white gauze weren’t for show.

“How did it go, Niisan?”

“She’s trying to kill me! And then she complains when I can’t stay still.” Edward moodily flung a folded piece of paper to his brother. “She wrote you a letter. I don’t even need to read it to know what she’s saying.” Ed tried his best to sound like a girl – he wasn’t bad at it either – as he continued; “Dear Alphonse. You owe me insane amounts of money for standing your horrible brother. His head broke my wrench after the hundredth time I hit him with it. A perfectly good wrench destroyed by his stupid head! On top of that, he dared to dislike my crude torture. Please scowl him and starve him to death to finish him off. Thank you.” He collapsed on the couch and grumbled a while longer before falling into silence, eyes shut.

Alphonse had mostly ignored his brother’s tirade, his attention focused on the piece of paper. What he read won winces of sympathy. “Niisan you could have told us it was that bad! No wonder you were bleeding all around if the port was shifting in your flesh! It’s not supposed to do that!”

“No, really, it isn’t? Wrath thought it was better to twist it as hard as possible to fracture the bone in my shoulder where the port was attached. Feels really great when it moves.”

“That’s not what- You just should have told us earlier! It must have been hurting enough even for you to notice!” Al didn’t want to feel guilty over it, but he did. It was hard not to sink to Edward’s level when he had temper fits, but Al felt like his inability to control himself brought unnecessary suffering to his brother. One of them should hold onto reason and since he just couldn’t trust Edward to keep his head cool, it had to be his job.

“It wasn’t that bad before Roy attacked me anyway.”

“You started that one.”

“Anyway,” scoffed Ed. “It was fine when I didn’t do much else than sit around.”

It was no use arguing with Edward, like usual. Al turned around, musing, “I thought it was strange that you almost collapsed from so few visible injuries…this explains a lot.”

“I heard that!” Edward shook his human fist. “Are you saying I’m weak like a girl?”

“I don’t think Winry is weak.”

“She’s not a real girl,” shot back Edward. “She’s violent and cruel and evil and-”

“Hawkeye? Catherine?”

“Right... “ Ed snorted. “Do we even know any normal girls?”

“The ones we know are remarkable.”

“They’re dangerous.” On those two last whiney words, Edward curled on the couch to suffer in silence. He liked to complain for show, but he also tended to quiet down when he was truly in pain.

Never mind him. I need to finish this soon or they won’t give me the promised sum. We need that money. I can worry about him later. Alphonse bit his lip and returned to work.

The silence might not have been entirely unusual but Edward didn’t take long to feel something was different. He opened his eyes and glanced around, seeking the reason of his discomfort. It took him a few minutes to realize what – who - he searching for.

“Al? Where’s the mongrel? You didn’t let him wander off on his own?”

“You should be glad, he won’t be bothering you any longer,” calmly answered Alphonse from the desk, eyes riveted to his work.

“What?” Ed sat up abruptly, grimacing. Winry had done a good job of fixing the port – and the bone - but he would have quite some bit of healing to do. “What happened to that idiot? He didn’t finally get himself killed, did he?”

“He left, apparently.”

“He left?”

Al mentally rolled his eyes but he was a perfect example of pure patience when he twisted in his seat to look back at his sibling. “He found the key and scampered off. He must be home by now.”

“You mean he escaped?”

“Something like that,” agreed Al.

“But…but…that’s not possible!”

Alphonse turned again and threw the abandoned collar to Edward over his shoulder, “They didn’t catch him, so he must have made it out. You know he’s not much like the other slaves. Nothing stops him.”

“But…I thought they always said security was perfect!”

“What’s wrong, Niisan? You seem bothered.”

Edward answered after a considerable delay, flopping back down. “Nothing’s wrong. It’s good that he’s out of the way. I’m just…” He shrugged. “I was just wondering if there’s any way Gracia will make us lasagna sometime. I really was in the mood for some. Damn mongrel is useless and annoying, but he can make lasagna.”

“Kinda feels empty without him around, doesn’t it, Niisan?” There was a vague agreeing noise. “Maybe I could get kittens. They’re lively things.”

“Oh, don’t start. Gluttony.”

“If we train them to stay inside, they’ll be okay,” argued Al. “They wouldn’t come here just to eat our kittens.”

“But say that freak does come in. He isn’t the brightest thing ever. Then Lust will come after him, and she’s smart. She might notice certain things or decide to have a peek around. We have secrets too. You’re the one who said we had to lay low and keep them away. For once I’m agreeing, so don’t start with your cats!” Edward’s stomach growled and he muttered something about being hungry. “It’s not like we didn’t have enough trouble with the dog…”

“But it would be nice to have cats,” murmured Alphonse, sulkily. Of course, it would also be nice to get rid of the homunculus, destroy the inner city, work for themselves and have dinner with Roy and Gracia every so often, but things like that just didn’t happen. It sucked, decided the blond. He wanted a cat damnit.

Alphonse rubbed his forehead, feeling childish. It did bother him though, how very lonely it felt with just the two of them. A pair of kittens could keep him company at least. But Niisan was right. Bad idea. He knew it was.

“Al, I’m hungry,” grumbled Edward, apparently expecting his younger brother to do something about it.

“Roy left soup actually. Can you heat it up? I’m hungry too but I have to finish this first.”

Edward hadn’t been listening so Al repeated. The elder just waved a hand – his left one. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Stupid mongrel…”

It wasn’t very nice to be amused at his older brother’s disappointment, but suddenly it was too hard not to. Edward was simply impossible. Cute, but impossible. Now that he thought about it, Alphonse wondered why he hadn’t noticed earlier. He really should have. But then again, sometimes it was hard to understand why Edward was spazzing since he did it all the time. This time Edward was cranky because his favorite toy had been taken away. Whatever Ed might say, Roy was still the only person who was willing to jump into fights with him. Everybody else scooted away and tried not to utter the offensive words that would get their ass kicked through the wall. Everything felt less interesting without a certain wildly unpredictable element roaming around.


-

When Hughes came back – rather late - he had a wistful air. Roy didn’t ask what that was about. He had the nagging impression Hughes had been hanging around the inner town’s gates, hoping for a glimpse of Gracia when she returned after visiting her family. How ridiculous, having a crush on a blondie.

Mustang was upside down, head to the foot of the bed with his naked feet under his pillow. He looked back when the mattress shifted, letting him know Hughes had dropped on the bed as well, although in the correct position. He crossed his arms under his neck and took up to watching the ceiling, the angle of his glasses hiding the expression of his eyes.

Roy wanted to tell his friend he was behaving like a lovesick puppy. He didn’t. He was rather gloomy himself, for no apparent reason. Oh, well, there was the fact he had to hunt down a job first thing in the morning and that was reason enough to be grumpy. He knew exactly how it would go. He would suffer rebuttal after rebuttal on the account that he was a mongrel - and therefore not trust-worthy- and would have to smile politely as people suspiciously asked questions about why he wanted a job (for money to live, what else, idiot?) and generally insulted his ‘kind’ (he’d be respectable too if he’d been born with brown hair damnit).

Provided he found a suitable spot, he would then have to force himself to be civil to his coworkers (who on their side wouldn’t cut him any slack) and endure knowing he was paid exactly half of what they earned for the same work (whoever had made this law needed to meet Roy’s fists to discuss it). Hughes complained he couldn’t keep a job very long. It wasn’t his fault: they always started it. He merely liked to end it, with as much mayhem as possible. A guy had to get payback when he could.

But that would all be for tomorrow, he reflected, watching Hughes sulk. Tonight was tonight, and spending it brooding would be tacky. He tried to stir up a conversation. “So, heard from the others Lyla is doing good?”

“As well as always. She’s got the best sources. She’s getting more powerful I guess.”

“You should stop upsetting her before you get in trouble.”

“Nah. I think she kinda likes me.”

“Really. I thought she had more taste than that.”

The silence returned. Roy frowned, slid down the bed to the ground and reached for the old pack of cards left on the bedside table. He figured a distraction would do them both some good. It was much too strange for them to be so self-absorbed. Since when did they take themselves so seriously?

Roy waved to his friend with a leer. “Hey, Hughes, I want to fuck you.”

Hughes looked over and slowly grinned. He accepted the challenge and joined his friend on the floor. “You don’t have the equipment.”

Gigolo was supposed to be played in public but neither of them cared for exhibitionism. They played for their personal amusement. It was also a friendly way to figure out who topped, in case any fighting arose over the issue. Hughes was usually luckier than Roy at this game, but this time, the smaller man was certain he would take the victory.

Cards were mixed and dealt under Hughes’ watchful gaze. Attempting to cheat was also a game between the two of them. Nothing seemed out of order so far so they proceeded, considering their respective hands and laying their first cards.

It wasn’t long before Roy announced, “First win.” It didn’t deserve a smirk. The first was always easy. Roy leaned forward to take his due, lips brushing against lips without the gentleness he reserved for ladies.

Two minutes later, Hughes smiled over his new assortment of cards, announcing, “You’re not winning this one.”

Words which Roy hurried to prove wrong. “Sorry, got you. Second win.” The rules stipulated you could have a feel for your second win. It wasn’t overly specific, so Roy felt free to let his hands wander, trailing on the jeans before attempting to sneak inside. Hughes wouldn’t have it, slapping Roy’s hands off with a smirk of his own. “You wanted to play the game. Now stick to the rules.”

“Fine. Prepare to lose.” It required all of Roy’s concentration to steal the third game but he was successful. At this point, he allowed himself to smirk and bask in his superiority. “Game over, Hughes.”

“Are you sure you didn’t cheat?”

Roy started to gather the cards, shooting an amused look to his friend. “I’m certain of it.” He smirked. “Are you sure you didn’t cheat?”

“What do I look like, a whore?”

“You’re not pretty enough.”

“Gee, thanks. So, you hitting on Fury now? Since he’s ‘pretty’. You’re a few years too late. You should have seduced him when he was a kid.”

“Oh please. Unlike you, pretty isn’t all I care about.”

Hughes laughed heartily, leaning back against the side of the bed. “Wait, you’re telling that to me? You’ve got your roles reversed here, Roy let’s-see-how-many-girls-I-can-jump-in-a-night Mustang.”

Roy protested, “One night stands don’t count!”

Hughes stretched as Roy put the pack of cards away, and nearly made the bedside table fall over, forgetting it was precariously perched on three legs. The fourth had been broken some time ago during a friendly struggle between the two of them. Roy absently told himself that it would be easy to fix with alchemy. The thought was gone as soon as it’d come.

“So pretty alone works for one night stands. What do you look for in a permanent mate then?”

“Strength. Courage.” Before Maes could reply, Roy added, “Preferably without the ability to pull out pictures from nowhere and annoy you to death with them.”

“So I’m not your perfect mate? That hurts.”

“You’ll have to settle for best friend,” graciously offered Roy.

“Mn, best friend with benefits? I can deal with that….” The subject came back to the game. “So, then, you won. How do you want it, champion?”

“Your mouth could be put to better use,” decided Roy, sitting in the edge of the bed.
“That almost hurts.”

“You sound like a girl.”

“Thought I wasn’t pretty enough?” He stood and snapped, pictures appearing in his hand. “Keep it up and I’ll show you just how bad I can ‘annoy you to death’.

Even after all those years, Roy couldn’t tell how the hell Hughes did that. He stripped his friend on a regular basis and still didn’t know where he hid these blasted pictures. The good thing was, Maes was just as skilled with his knives. Roy was glad about that one; it was useful. “I’m terrified.”

“Damn right, you should be.” The pictures were left aside for the moment but Roy feared he was in for a long picture session before he was allowed to catch any sleep.

Hughes joined his friend on the bed and steered Roy in a position more to his taste: back to the wall, left leg still dangling off the side and right one spread aside and propped up to form a triangle with the bed. Hughes knelt in the freed space, humming faintly as he unfastened Roy’s pants.

From experience, Roy knew it was better to steal Hughes’ glasses now, before he had a chance to coat them in a certain fluid and earn Hughes’ ire.

These things are expensive! Don’t mess with them! Great, I think I scratched them trying to scrub off your scent.

What’s wrong with my smell? Thought you liked it.

Not on my glasses!

Roy placed his hands on each side of Hughes’ head and removed the delicate object. For lack of a better place to put them, the shorter mongrel landed the square glasses on his own nose, looking down at a faintly amused – glassless but not blind – Maes from over the rims.

“Don’t break them.”

“I won’t.”

Roy watched with interest as Hughes stroke his cock, progressively bringing it to full erection. He unwittingly spread his bent leg further, ignoring the light pull in his thigh’s muscle. They both had strong hands from their frequent fights – either with idiots or for fun between the two of them – and it always was most handy when it came down to this peculiar activity. Especially to, say, keep one from gagging you. Hughes knew it was in his best interests to grip Roy’s thighs before he bent and took him into his mouth.

Roy groaned in satisfaction as the warmth surrounded him. It had been a while indeed. He kept himself in check, hips still, knowing how much Hughes hated to gag. It was his fault for having such a nice mouth though. Roy leaned back into the wall, its cool an odd contrast to the warmth spreading from his groin. His eyelids slowly dropped, heavy with hot sensations.

When his dark eyes were entirely shut, Roy wasn’t surprised to find Hughes’ image fading, replaced by somebody else’s. He must have had some sort of pedophilia impulsion, he snorted to himself. He didn’t bother chasing the image; fantasies were just that, fantasies.

-

Edward’s irritation only grew as the night fell. Alphonse had wanted to let his brother fuss by himself, but one second he was copying something from a book, and the next Edward was aggressively crawling into his lap, pushing books and paper aside.

Al protested, reaching out to catch the pen that had just rolled off the desk. “Niisan, I’m trying to work.”

“It’s too late for work, give me some attention,” whined Edward, closing his arms around Al’s neck and pulling him down to join their lips. “Been too damn long anyway. Finally, the mongrel’s out of the way. Not too soon. I was starting to feel like a monk or something.”

“I don’t think monks are supposed to masturbate in the bathroom,” pointed out Al.

“No? Then where?”

The slap had been meant light, but according to Edward, it was more of a mortal attack to his behind. “You don’t have to be religious, but you don’t have to be insulting either, Niisan.”

“They’re asking for it, All their blabbering about equality and love and-“

“I think equality is a great concept, and what’s wrong with love? If a certain person we know loved his children more, everything would be far less complicated around here.”

“No talking about him, please.” Ed snorted. “And what about all the other stuff? Like uh, protecting your virginity until marriage? Add on the whole gay incest thing and we’re pretty much good for Hell. Well, Paradise sounds pretty boring anyway.”

“You’re impossible,” sighed the younger alchemist. “You can’t take it word for word, there’s a lot of personal prejudices in there. Humans wrote all those books after all. It’s-”

“You’re boring me,” decided Edward, “Be quiet.”

Alphonse gave in this time and kissed back – at least Ed couldn’t rant when his mouth was occupied like this - hands on his brother’s ass. It was true it had been a while. Ed was more aggressive than usual and he quickly lost interest into simple kissing, reaching to the side of the large chair to pull the level and lower the back of the furniture. He pushed Alphonse down and molded his body against the younger boy’s, forcing his longer legs apart.

At first, Alphonse let Edward do as he wished, spreading his legs and simply making circles under Ed’s shirt with his bare hands. He expected his brother to want to ride him; it didn’t sound like a bad idea at all. The elder Elric didn’t seem to be interested in getting undressed however, settling for rubbing their bodies together.

The motion firstly brought the familiar comfortable warmth that always made leather pants seem much too tight. “Mmm…”

The longer it lasted though, the harder Ed drove his pelvis into Alphonse, slowly turning the initial arousal into discomfort, the pleasant warmth in his body fading as the friction burn intensified.

“Niisan,” hissed Al, twisting his hands into his brother’s shirt, “Calm down, that hurts.” Edward grumbled something that might have been an apology and the pressure was slightly lightened. Still, Alphonse wouldn’t say he was pleased. “Gnn!”

The younger blond stretched back, trying to sink back into the comfy chair and gain some room. Leather rubbing roughly against flesh – peculiarly this area – was not such a great feeling. The friction brought more pain than anything else. Alphonse temporarily found some space to settle back into and tone down the hurtful contact to a middle ground where the pain level was acceptable, confusing his body and eventually twisting everything into an arousing feeling again.

Kisses were messily exchanged, trails of saliva left on each other’s faces. They didn’t care, as long as there was contact; tongues trailing against skin and occasionally dipping into warm openings to run along sharp teeth.

Ed hunted down Al’s body, seeking even more contact, harsher grinding. He was thrusting roughly, trapping his brother down. If Ed’s groans were ones of pleasure, Al’s moans soon were much more about pain. Fire in his pants, and not the way he liked it!

“Niisan, come on, quit it!” Al weakly tried to push his brother away but Edward was quite clingy: his automail arm was curled around Alphonse to crush their bodies together, pinning Alphonse’s own automail to his side in the process and denying him its use. Struggling was thus made difficult. Within seconds, tears had gathered at the corner of the shorthaired boy’s eyes.

All of Alphonse’s further protestations were ignored and swallowed as the older boy clamped his lips over the younger one’s. The friction soon reached a painful peak and Al gave a yelp into his brother’s mouth. This was what Edward had sought; he made the unmistakable sounds that accompanied sexual release and gradually stopped thrusting, sneaking his second arm under Alphonse’s back and curling on top of him contently.

There was a sigh of relief as the burn died down. Alphonse oxygenated his body before stating just what he thought of this kind of treatment, on the appropriate unhappy tone. “Okay, I’m warning you Niisan, this is the last time we’re doing that. I can think of several easier and less painful ways to maim myself.”

“You’re exaggerating,” grumbled the clingy blond.

“I think you’re masochist,” shot back Al. “That hurts. If you’re feeling dominative, I don’t mind letting you top, you know that. But no more grinding with leather pants on. I’m half surprised you didn’t start a fire.” He shoved at his brother, almost hard enough to pitch Edward off him. “ And would you get off? I need to go take a cold shower to feel better.”

Edward looked up at him, suddenly paying attention. The grumpy tone sunk in. “You’re serious? You didn’t like it? But you’re always complaining anyway. How am I supposed to tell?”

There was clear exasperation and hurt in the younger Elric’s voice, “That’s because you are always a bit too rough. You could listen sometimes. I thought ‘it hurts’ and ‘stop’ were easy enough to understand, even for you. If I’m not aroused any more, it’s because I do not find pain exciting! What did you think?” He felt sulky. Niisan always ignored what he said. It wasn’t fair or nice of him.

“Oh.” Ed rested his cheek against Al’s chest. “Sorry. Was a little frustrated I guess.” Alphonse knew he was probably the only person who received genuine apologies from Edward. With anybody else, the best Ed could do was grumbling something that sounded vaguely apologetic. He didn’t want to soften too fast though so he didn’t speak right away. Ed worried, “What, are you mad at me?”

“Not really,” finally answered Al. An apology meant much to him, enough to discard the issue. Curiosity took over. “So what’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh huh.” Why did his brother insist on denying things Al had already noticed? “You’re never sensible but you’re not usually so mean either. Something is bothering you.” Or someone for that matter.

“Isn’t.”

“Is.”

“Don’t argue with your older brother.”

“Don’t lie to your younger brother then.”

“Since when are you so rude?”

“Sorry, Niisan.” He stirred and tried to escape the dead weight on top of him. “Can I go now?”

“Are you such you don’t want me to make it up to you?” Edward caught Al’s automail hand and closed his teeth on the metal digit, licking and gnawing lightly.

Alphonse warned, “If you’re going to bite me, you can forget it…”

“Give me a break. I’m sorry, shesh.”

Edward slid to the ground, kneeling between Alphonse’s parted legs and reaching to undo the belt and open the pants. Mere seconds later he had his mouth full and Al was starting to forgive him for his earlier unkindness. It would have been hard not to forgive that warm mouth and teasing tongue that leisurely explored his cock and balls, cooling down the pain and replacing it with a different kind of ache. Blood colored Al’s cheeks a happy pink as he went limp in the chair, mind quickly losing all ability to properly think. This was much better. Warm, soft and moist, bringing a kind of fire that he only felt in his blood stream, racing up and down his entire body. Edward’s insisting tongue finally drew out white semen. Alphonse gave a last groan and watched his brother try not to choke from under lowered eyelids. He then lazily reached to gather the white trail left at the corner of Ed’s mouth and offered it to the kneeling boy, letting him finish this ultimate trace of their guilty pleasure.

Ed peeked up with bright eyes that attempted to look pleading. “Better? Am I forgiven?”

“I’m not sure,” mused Al, not quite succeeding in sounding innocent. “Maybe your mouth needs to be a little more persuasive. Come back here. You still owe me some making out, Niisan.”

“You’re so demanding,” sulked Edward, never the less settling in Alphonse’s lap. “You’re the one who should be kind to me. Winry messed with my automail and it hurts.”

The shorthaired blond shifted then to have the room to reach and softly massage the presumably aching automail port. “Is that better? Now less complaining and more making out please.”

“Thought I was the annoyingly horny one,” murmured Edward. Of course, he wasn’t actually complaining.