Pandora Effect

He managed to survive the work day without dying of embarrassment, but it was close; Crowley, from the next lab over, had wanted to swap lunches, and just the thought had nearly sent him out the window. He had ultimately retreated to eat in the spare room, just in case; unfortunately, the solitude, combined with the damned bottle, had made him want to do increasingly inappropriate things. By the time he was eyeing the mouth of his root beer bottle with less trepidation and more and more interest, he decided he’d just about HAD it.

It just wasn’t fair. His brother was still getting to him, and he wasn’t even THERE to do something about it. He squirmed, he fidgeted, he didn’t get hardly anything done the rest of the damn day. Just great. He was going to have to finish his project on his own time.

He was a foul mood by the time the wall clock chimed five, and nobody messed with him when he began biding up arrays up to take with him for the weekend. That was the good part of being the responsible one in the office; nobody questioned it when you took work home with you. They trusted you to get it done.

“Oh, and Elric? Would you mind getting those redesigns to me by Wednesday?”

“Sir—“

“James is out sick, and I really need those arrays hashed out for Fleet Street.”

That was the bad part. Everybody also expected you to pull deadlines out of your ass, including your deadbeat, makes-far-too-much-more-than-you boss. Alphonse nodded curtly and resisted, again, the temptation to turn the man into a hefty, infinitely more useful paperweight. Damn government liasons. He was sure the project manager hadn’t transmuted a thing in his life, and had no idea just how long it took to develop certain things.

“How much of the surveying did he get done?” He asked.

“Uh…I think the survey is in your inbox…” As usual, when it came to actual work, Mr. Pug was completely lost. “Someone was supposed to be working out the geometry, but I don’t remember who. I was out that afternoon.”

Yeah, with the secretary. In a love hotel.

“Alright, I’ll take a look.” Alphonse sighed, resigned to his fate. Knowing his coworkers, probably no one had started yet. And James always took his sketches home with him. He would most likely have to redo the bridge design by hand. The same bridge, which, if he were allowed, he could clap-transmute by feel alone.

“There’s a good boy. Get those arrays done by Wednesday, and I’ll even overlook your Occurrence this morning. Remember, son, you’re already at three…”

Alphonse nodded, stiffly. Yes, five Occurrences and you were out, but he had only been three minutes late, and just WHOSE fault was that, really?! Whose fault had ALL of them been?

“In fact…” Mr. Pug said. “Since you reported in late this morning, perhaps you wouldn’t mind staying a bit after? Crowley needs help with the Middletown sewer project, you know, we could use your input there, too.”

Alphonse stared at his boss, horrified. He’d heard Crowley talking about his progress – or lack of it – over the lunch hour.

“But sir – that could take HOURS! How am I going to have time to-“

The man clapped a meaty hand down on his shoulder and offered his own, special brand of ‘encouragement’.

“Well, you’re a bright boy. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Which was how he found himself home a full three hours past the normal time, pissed off and with a literal arm-load of work, kicking the door open and cursing his sibling’s name - who was once again lying in wait.

Edward greeted him much the same way they’d parted, but in reverse. He launched himself at Alphonse’s ass this time and began groping at him from that direction. Alphonse was about ready to deck him. “Brother!” He hissed, and shook his sibling off his coat-tails. “Let me GO!”

“What?” Now it was his brother’s turn to scowl. “I can’t be happy to see you?”

“That’s not the point! Look, I’ve got a lot of work to do tonight, could you possibly shove off for a while?”

Edward pouted. When Edward pouted, he didn’t just pout with his lips. He Disapproved with his entire body.

“But it’s been a long day and I missed you!” Edward accused, as if that were somehow Alphonse’s fault.

Alphonse gaped.

“YOU’VE had a long day? YOU’VE had a long day!?” Now, that was a bald-faced fucking lie. “No, YOU probably went into the office at ten, and wasted half the damn day arguing with the General!”

“Hey, it wasn’t HALF, it was only-“

Alphonse slammed his way into the study and threw his outstanding work onto the table. The stack skittered laterally and half of it toppled to the floor; he was going to have to pick all of that up later. Alphonse closed his eyes.

“Believe me, brother, you do not know the MEANING of Hard. Day.” He ground out.

“Al?” His brother’s arms wrapped around him from the back. He sounded worried.

“It’s nothing.” Alphonse said. “Okay, well, maybe it IS something, but it’s nothing you can really do anything about, okay?”

“Okay…” Edward said doubtfully, but rubbed his forehead against Alphonse’s shoulder anyways, the way he always did when he was trying to cheer him up. Truth be told, it only worked because of how ridiculous it was (his brother was still so much smaller, he couldn’t SEE over Alphonse’s shoulder flat-footed), but… Alphonse smiled. His brother could be sweet when he wanted to be.

…or when he wanted something.

“Al?” Edward yelped as Alphonse swatted a wandering hand away from his thigh.

“Look.” Alphonse turned to face his errant sibling. Tried to breathe. “Mr. Pug assigned me pretty much ALL of the Fleet Street project at the last minute, cause this other guy was out sick.”

“That why you were so late?”

“No,” and his prior annoyance flared up again. “THAT was because YOU made me late this morning. I got another Occurrence.”

“Oh.” His brother scratched the back of his head, sheepishly. “…my bad?”

Alphonse boggled. “Your bad?! Brother, it’s not just your bad, it’s…oh, forget it. Like you would know. Nobody in your office has done an honest day’s work in their life.” Which was not true – not remotely – but he’d be lying if he said there weren’t days when he wished he were working in Mustang’s office.

“Al, that’s not fair.” Edward called him out on the carpet. ”You’re forgetting Lieutenant Hawkeye. She does work enough for all of us.”

“Lieutenant-Colonel,” Alphonse retorted. Smiled. “See? You can’t even keep people’s titles straight.”

“Oh, shut up.” His brother muttered, and pressed his head up beneath Alphonse’s chin. Score one for me. Alphonse thought, and rubbed his sibling’s back absently. Physical submission, however slight, was one of the Edward Elric words for “I’m sorry”.

Except that, in this instance, the submission was apparently aggression in disguise, because a warm tongue flicked out and began tracing the curve of his neck.

“Brother…”

“Sorry you had such a shitty day.” Edward purred, lipping expertly along the lower edge of his jaw. Alphonse groaned and tried to pull his head away, but that just exposed more his neck to the evil little vampire. Dammit, why did his brother have to be so…so…

His brother pulled his lips away, and his grin transformed into a veritable leer. He rose up on his toes and rocked his pelvis against Alphonse’s, making both of them hiss.

“Heh. Looks like you’re having a hard night, too.”

Alphonse leaned back and closed his eyes.

“Brother?”

“Mmm?” Lips were back at his neck, fanning unwanted desire deep within his belly.

“You have exactly ten seconds to get out of here, before I PUT you out.”

“You don’t really mean that.” Edward murmured, and rose up on his toes again to nip at an ear.

Ten seconds later, Edward learned that Alphonse DID.

“HEY!” He protested as he was dumped unceremoniously into the hallway. Alphonse glowered.

“Brother, I have a lot of work to do these next few days.” He said. “And when I say I need you to shove off for a while, you need to SHOVE. OFF. I’d appreciate it if you just left me alone for a while, okay? Like I asked?”

Edward nodded slowly, unhappily.

“Thanks.” He pulled the door shut and locked it, stalked back to his desk. Sat there, and waited; counted to ten again. Sure enough, he heard a suspicious clapping noise.

“And don’t even think about transmuting that lock!”

Light blazed briefly through the keyhole, then died down just as fast. There was no further sound of clapping…but neither was there the sound of footsteps, lumbering away.

Alphonse ran a hand through his hair, rapped a pencil against the edge of the desk. Dammit, he should just get on with things…it wasn’t his fault that his brother was always wanting to accost him. A guy just couldn’t have everything they wanted all the time, it just didn’t work that way. And when he said “no, not now”, he meant “hands off now”, not “okay, make it a quickie”.

Still…

“It’s just for a little while, brother.” He said finally. “I promise. I don’t want to have to do this either, but I know the way things work, I’ll never get anything done. I wish you’d just show some self-restraint once in a while, you know?”

He couldn’t tell if Edward was listening or not, but after a few more minutes he heard something rustle, and then, slowly, mismatched feet clomped away down the hallway.

Alphonse bit his lip. It was a conversation that needed to happen, he told himself. Even if he still couldn’t help but feel like a heel. But SOMEBODY had to reign his sibling in, show him boundaries…had to let him know that he did, in fact, have better things to do than take care of Edward 24/7…

The sound of footsteps thundering back suddenly, and Al jerked his head toward the door.

“…Al?” His brother’s voice was low and quivery, as if he loathed having to speak.

“Yes?” Don’t tell me he’s going to apologize…

“…what am I going to do about dinner?” Edward whined, through the door.

Alphonse buried his face in his palm. He loved his brother, he really did.

So much that some day, he was going to strangle the moron.

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