A Minor Variation
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
578
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Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
2
Views:
578
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Turnabout
It was at the ungodly hour of three in the morning that he woke up with a sudden, painful revelation. He had been becoming just like Edward.
Feeling queasy, he gently extricated himself from the embrace of the other blond sleeping in the bed and unsteadily made his way to the kitchen. Normally, he would have groused about the types of liquor Jean kept, but right now... He took the first bottle his fingers came in contact with, not even caring that it was the amaretto he usually hated the taste of.
And yet, he thought, as he stared dismally into the bottle, even this was like Edward. He distinctly remembered how the older man had hated the taste of any form of alcohol, even though he liked occasionally getting smashed like anyone else. Even if the specific drinks that caused the disdain were different, the underlying feeling of not wanting a damn thing to do with anything unfamiliar was the same.
Unfamiliar...
He leaned back against the kitchen counter and sighed, rubbing his head. God, how hadn't he noticed the signs until now? Even if Jean didn't have the stigma of looking like a member of his family, he had been doing the exact same thing to the man that Edward had done to him. He'd even tried to use the same justification that Edward had probably told himself time again, that he wasn't going to be here long and it was his partner's own fault for opening his arms in the first place.
"Bastard," he muttered under his breath, and it wasn't directed at his ex-lover or the sleeping Frenchman. Edward using him up and vanishing back to God only knew where without a second thought had nearly destroyed him, and here he had originally been planning to waltz off back to Germany in the exact same way. He barely tasted the amaretto or felt the burn as he tipped back a large swallow.
Originally planning and what he had in mind now weren't the same thing, part of his mind reminded him. While there were still a lot of things he honest to God hated about Paris, Jean himself was another story. But that still didn't excuse him. It really didn't. The fact that he'd had such plans in the first place, the fact that he'd even considered such things...
Well, whatever he'd been thinking before, he damn well wasn't going to be like Edward anymore, he thought bitterly as he tilted the bottle to his lips again and drained the last of the liquor in one long swallow and coughing a little. Wasn't gonna be some selfish drain on someone who had offered up everything. Wasn't gonna ruin people just to get what he wanted, even if he had no idea at the moment what he wanted. Wasn't-
He didn't hear the sound of shattering glass as the empty bottle slipped from nerveless fingers and dropped to the floor, but he did feel the hands that caught him as he swayed on his feet and nearly followed it. Disoriented and fuzzy, he looked up into concerned blue eyes, the silence stretching in the room until he realized who was holding him.
A wrenching knot of hunger and guilt and want and regret, fueled by entirely too much alcohol, swelled in his stomach and chest and his fingers clenched on the taller blond's collar and dragged him down for a messy, but desperate and heartfelt kiss.
"Don' wanna leave," he mumbled, accent heavier than usual as he had to struggle for a hold on English.
"Shh," Jean soothed, gathering him close and rubbing his back gently. "You don't have to."
"Do too." Maybe it made his control of language harder, but the amaretto had made him more stubborn.
"Why?"
"'Cause...'cause I'm doin' the same thing he did, an'...an' the longer I stay-"
The taller blond gently cut him off with a kiss. "If you need to leave, I don't mind. But I would rather you stayed."
He blinked and stared up at his companion, that taking a minute or two to sink in. "You- you want me to stay?" he asked, partially stunned and mostly hopeful.
"As long as you like."
He dimly realized that his fingers were still clenched in the man's shirt. He made himself let go, but only long enough to shift his grip to cling somewhere else as he buried his face against Jean's shoulder. "'m sorry." He couldn't even remember what he was apologizing for at this point, but the light kiss dropped against his hair was a good indication that Jean didn't seem to mind.
"Don't worry about it. Now, let's get you back to bed, alright? Your headache later will be painful enough without adding more sleep deprivation on top of it."
"Okay." Dazed and still drunk, but a little happier, he allowed the older man to guide him back to their bed. Relaxing as fingers slowly stroked through his hair, he closed his eyes and snuggled close. He wasn't gonna do what Edward had done, his mind continued to repeat quietly as he began to doze off. He wasn't gonna waste something good. He was going to make it even better.
Feeling queasy, he gently extricated himself from the embrace of the other blond sleeping in the bed and unsteadily made his way to the kitchen. Normally, he would have groused about the types of liquor Jean kept, but right now... He took the first bottle his fingers came in contact with, not even caring that it was the amaretto he usually hated the taste of.
And yet, he thought, as he stared dismally into the bottle, even this was like Edward. He distinctly remembered how the older man had hated the taste of any form of alcohol, even though he liked occasionally getting smashed like anyone else. Even if the specific drinks that caused the disdain were different, the underlying feeling of not wanting a damn thing to do with anything unfamiliar was the same.
Unfamiliar...
He leaned back against the kitchen counter and sighed, rubbing his head. God, how hadn't he noticed the signs until now? Even if Jean didn't have the stigma of looking like a member of his family, he had been doing the exact same thing to the man that Edward had done to him. He'd even tried to use the same justification that Edward had probably told himself time again, that he wasn't going to be here long and it was his partner's own fault for opening his arms in the first place.
"Bastard," he muttered under his breath, and it wasn't directed at his ex-lover or the sleeping Frenchman. Edward using him up and vanishing back to God only knew where without a second thought had nearly destroyed him, and here he had originally been planning to waltz off back to Germany in the exact same way. He barely tasted the amaretto or felt the burn as he tipped back a large swallow.
Originally planning and what he had in mind now weren't the same thing, part of his mind reminded him. While there were still a lot of things he honest to God hated about Paris, Jean himself was another story. But that still didn't excuse him. It really didn't. The fact that he'd had such plans in the first place, the fact that he'd even considered such things...
Well, whatever he'd been thinking before, he damn well wasn't going to be like Edward anymore, he thought bitterly as he tilted the bottle to his lips again and drained the last of the liquor in one long swallow and coughing a little. Wasn't gonna be some selfish drain on someone who had offered up everything. Wasn't gonna ruin people just to get what he wanted, even if he had no idea at the moment what he wanted. Wasn't-
He didn't hear the sound of shattering glass as the empty bottle slipped from nerveless fingers and dropped to the floor, but he did feel the hands that caught him as he swayed on his feet and nearly followed it. Disoriented and fuzzy, he looked up into concerned blue eyes, the silence stretching in the room until he realized who was holding him.
A wrenching knot of hunger and guilt and want and regret, fueled by entirely too much alcohol, swelled in his stomach and chest and his fingers clenched on the taller blond's collar and dragged him down for a messy, but desperate and heartfelt kiss.
"Don' wanna leave," he mumbled, accent heavier than usual as he had to struggle for a hold on English.
"Shh," Jean soothed, gathering him close and rubbing his back gently. "You don't have to."
"Do too." Maybe it made his control of language harder, but the amaretto had made him more stubborn.
"Why?"
"'Cause...'cause I'm doin' the same thing he did, an'...an' the longer I stay-"
The taller blond gently cut him off with a kiss. "If you need to leave, I don't mind. But I would rather you stayed."
He blinked and stared up at his companion, that taking a minute or two to sink in. "You- you want me to stay?" he asked, partially stunned and mostly hopeful.
"As long as you like."
He dimly realized that his fingers were still clenched in the man's shirt. He made himself let go, but only long enough to shift his grip to cling somewhere else as he buried his face against Jean's shoulder. "'m sorry." He couldn't even remember what he was apologizing for at this point, but the light kiss dropped against his hair was a good indication that Jean didn't seem to mind.
"Don't worry about it. Now, let's get you back to bed, alright? Your headache later will be painful enough without adding more sleep deprivation on top of it."
"Okay." Dazed and still drunk, but a little happier, he allowed the older man to guide him back to their bed. Relaxing as fingers slowly stroked through his hair, he closed his eyes and snuggled close. He wasn't gonna do what Edward had done, his mind continued to repeat quietly as he began to doze off. He wasn't gonna waste something good. He was going to make it even better.