Atonement

Disclaimer: Mine? Oh no. If it was, things would be very very different… No money made, yadla yadla.

WARNING: This contains armor!Al x Ed sex. It’s incestuous, it’s kinky, and it’s even violent. Don’t blame me for burnt eyes.

***

Another train ride, another empty street to drag his suitcase down, another unremarkable inn and another not quite right bed. But that hardly mattered. Edward was always uncomfortable, because he was never in a bed that was his. He knew how to sleep to get some rest, if not any pleasure. It must have been why he slept so much on trains. There at least he didn’t have to pretend to be in his bed, there wasn’t a part of him wishing it was his own and he didn’t keep expecting a little brother to come crawling up at his side complaining about monsters. He didn’t get those dreams on trains either. The ones about home, and mother and- no. Sleeping on the train was much better.

Edward pushed his luggage by the window and plopped on the bed that would be ‘his’ for the whole of three or four nights, depending on how fast he could blow everyth-oh wait. It was called investigating and doing his job. Sure. Whatever Colonel Bast-Mustang said.

‘Bad bed,’ decided Ed. Too…soft. Too much like his memory of the one he slept in as a child. He didn’t want nightmares. It was a good thing he had brought a few books. They would keep him up and busy until he fell asleep on them, so tired that not even dreams would bother him. He settled down to do just that, but found he could barely concentrate enough to read a single page, his mind ready to wander off at every end of sentence. He chided himself and persisted, although he knew basically nothing was being absorbed by his drifting mind. The words seemed meaningless, stains of ink on blank paper.

Alphonse knew his brother very well – too well perhaps. It came from watching him, day and night, scrutinizing his every expression, following his every movement. So he knew, even before Edward knew himself, what was bothering his elder.

Half way through the night, Ed gave up trying to read and turned his attention to sleeping. That too, turned out to be impossible. He tossed and turned until he was well near prisoner of the covers, like a fly in a spider’s silky cocoon, ready to be devoured. After much squirming and cursing, the boy freed himself. He hopped out of bed, half naked. He’d kept his pants on, but the buckle and fly were open. Everything else, including the tie for the braid, had been dismissed.

Edward leaned half out the window, apparently gazing up at the stars. Even now he was twitching lightly, restless, and he took up humming, as if to distract himself. Al could almost see the stress running through the young wiry body, knowing what his brother craved, knowing what he didn’t dare ask for.

Alphonse stood nosily. A part of his mind dutifully noted the sound he made and proceeded to hate it. He’d always hated this reminder of what he was, or wasn’t. The worst part was that, after four years, he barely paid attention to these clinking noises anymore. As if they were normal, had always been there and would never leave. That was why he made a point of noticing and hating it as much as he could. It was good to practice hatred. It was one of the many things, the many feelings, he was starting to forget.

“Niisan…”

“Yeah, Al?” Eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dark, like those of a cat, turned to him.

“You’re edgy,” started the younger boy. “ It’s….been a while, hasn’t it?” Edward was silent, presenting his backside to his brother. Al noticed his slight shudder. “Niisan, would you like-?”

“No. I’m fine.” Sharp, annoyed words, though not directed toward Al.

“But Niisan…” A few careful steps forward and Alphonse was laying his massive, empty gloves on his brother’s naked shoulders. “You know what you’ll be like. I don’t…I don’t mind. I want to help.”

Another shudder, much stronger. Alphonse squeezed a little, carefully watching the skin move under his grip to determine if he was clenching too hard. He knew he could leave nasty red marks without meaning too, and he knew Ed wouldn’t complain.

Edward was conflicted, like every time. He just never could stop blaming himself for everything and anything. That was why Al decided to take matters into his own hands, so to speak. He lowered an arm to his brother’s pale stomach, his gauntlet barely grazing across it before briefly dipping into the open pants. The boy gave a squeak, a little startled, and immediately protested, tugging at the arm.

“Al, don’t. Don’t.”

Alphonse’s other arm was slowly slung lower across Ed’s chest, very carefully as to not rub the metal against frail flesh, and pinned him lightly against the cold chest plate.

Edward shivered violently at the contact, but his reaction was not to pull away but to push back, seeking the sickly feeling of chilling metal against his backside. His head was turned away and lowered in shame, but he did not fight anymore.

“Shh, Niisan…” Al reached down to close his invisible hands on his brother’s inner thighs. He ran his gloves up and down, barely paying attention at how rough he was. It was how it always went with Edward.

A grunt escaped the clenched jaw, “Nng.”

“Niisan… let me. Okay?”

“I…Aa…” And that was all the permission needed.

Alphonse reached to untie the loincloth, letting it flutter to the ground. Underneath, barely noticeable, a tiny array was etched in the armor itself. Al touched and activated it. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it and it felt much too easy. The metal around that part was much ticker than the rest of the armor for some reason or other, providing more than enough metal to form what was nothing more than a spear of hard metal.

Edward shuddered, feeling the alchemical reaction and knowing its purpose. He kicked his suitcase down and climbed on it, leaning in the window. Al just had to place his hands on his brother’s hips to pull the black pants down and uncover the skin below. Edward wasn’t wearing underwear, finding them too uncomfortable to bother with most of the time. He wouldn’t have had that problem with normal pants, but he liked them tight, regardless of the potential danger to the efficiency of his semen.

A gust of wind wiped at Edward’s face and the golden strands danced a moment in an illusion of freedom. “Mn, Niisan…maybe the window isn’t such a good place…somebody could see…”

“Nobody’s out at this hour. And I don’t care.” Once Edward’s mind was set on something, it was immediately or never.

Ed lifted his ass further, pushing himself on his toes in anticipation. Al was careful to position himself correctly, knowing his brother. Indeed, as soon as he felt the cold of the metal against his entrance, Edward all but shoved back on it, impaling himself violently. The metal burned its way inside.

“Kck!” He choked, gold eyes shimmering with tears and body arching so brutally one might have thought his spine had just snapped.

“Niisan! Are you hurt?” Al said with worry as he touched his brother’s back, laying the rough glove to a perfect spot of skin. No scars here, yet.

“No.” Edward half turned his head, presenting his profile. He was deceptively calm. “More…give me more, Al.”

Alphonse would have bitten his lip had he been human. Now, he simply reached down, touching the array that was an inch away from Edward’s flesh. He activated it, concentrating, and knew at his brother’s gasp that the hard shaft had grown, stretching the flesh further, mercilessly. For a moment he was scared he’d overdone it, as his brother remained tense for several seconds, but then he relaxed again. It was a paradox, how Edward would let himself go limp under this sort of pain. Because there was no way this wasn’t hurting him.

“Alphonse…” Edward rarely used his little brother’s full name. It meant a lot when he did.

“Yes, Niisan?”

“Fuck me. Please.” The raw need in those words and the way they were spoken as a plea never failed to sink Al’s immaterial heart.

“Aa.”

Alphonse did not need to be so careful now, just rocking evenly, without a pause or hitch. It wasn’t the first time after all: he’d learned how to keep a rhythm that would both satisfy his brother and not tear his insides. If you asked Edward however, the latter was what he wanted. He wanted it to hurt. Badly.

It was easy to see already that it did hurt. Edward was shivering violently, hanging after the window with white knuckles. The rest of his body was mostly limp, as he gave himself up to the pain. He wasn’t trying to fight it. He didn’t want too.

There was a little blood too, but that was to be expected when metal was thrust against vulnerable flesh over and over again. It was cold inside of him, yet the friction burned.

Edward whimpered weakly, “Al…Al…damn it hurts…it hurts…”

“I can s-“

“No! Don’t stop! Don’t-oh fuck. Hurts…ahh…” His shoulders’ trembling intensified, and the younger brother knew his Niisan was crying. That too, was usual. It didn’t hurt his heart any less though. Within seconds Edward was moaning in pain through running tears, occasionally calling his brother’s name, telling him not to stop, asking to be ridden harder, until the sheer blood amount was sufficient to act as a lubricant. It left a crimson trail on his thigh that eventually dripped down on the battered suitcase. Edward didn’t care. If he was still conscious, then he hadn’t had enough.

The long-haired blond wasn’t on the tip of his toes anymore, preferring to let himself hang a little more on the metal shaft inside of him. As a result, at each thrust he was pushed a little upward, with an extra jolt of pain that made his head snap back involuntarily and his hair fly in the air.

Edward didn’t enjoy pain, of course not. But sometimes, all he wanted was for Alphonse to hurt him. It was like he couldn’t spend a month without going through some physical pain on his brother’s behalf, lest he became restless and angry at himself. For each moment his brother spent without his body, Edward wanted to be punished. It was his fault after all. No reasoning could wrestle that belief out of his mind. He’d sinned. He deserved to be harmed for it, over and over. His eyelids fluttered, unable to keep the tears out of the way; they kept coming. He felt weak, burned up inside, agonizing. Even if Mustang set him on fire, he could not have made the fire burn him like this, blazing through his veins until his every nerve was overloaded and his sight was gone, replaced by flashes of white in a land of darkness lying behind his eyelids.

Ed barely remembered how to speak, but he still did, mouth dry and voice rough, “Ng, Al, harder.”

“Niisan, you’re already bleeding,” countered Al, trying not to sound alarmed or sad but stern and calm.

“I know! I know...ow…Al…please…” There was a crack, the automail hand crushing the window’s frame.

Alphonse complied, but also moved one of his gloves from Edward’s hip to between his legs again, seeking to finish his brother before he caused too much damage. There was a large bruise where his hand had just been, and there was certainly another one under his other.

Al clenched over his brother’s member, squeezing tighter than pleasure would call for. It was pain Edward was seeking. And if pain was necessary to soothe him, what else could Alphonse do? He did not attempt to rub, afraid the leather of the glove was much too rough. He couldn’t see what he was doing anyway; he couldn’t have done it safely.

Something was taking over the young body. It wasn’t a feeling easily named. It wasn’t sheer pain anymore. It certainly wasn’t pleasure either. It was just…a *feeling*. An overwhelming feeling that took over his senses and his nerves, made his muscles quiver and his whole body shake. It was a way to remember he was alive. A way to remember he could feel things, strongly. A way to tell himself he was not dreaming.

It was important, that it was Al. Edward could never had told him this, but sometimes even he wasn’t so sure his brother existed anymore. But, if there was one saying that made sense, it was that things that didn’t exist couldn’t hurt you. Alphonse could hurt him. Alphonse was there. Alphonse was real. How could Al not be, when he made Edward cry and moan as his marred body just exploded under his actions?

Edward’s climax came, an odd, awkward climax that wasn’t so much the result of built up pleasure as an outlet of tension and guilt. He shuddered for a long moment, moaning pleas as more tears escaped his tightly shut eyes and dripped down from his cheeks to the ground, just like his blood had. His blood, his tears. Shed for his brother. “I’m sorry…I’m sor…ry…Ack! A-alu!”

His body finally reached its peace and the boy let himself slide down from the window, crumpling onto his suitcase. He was heaving and his face was moist with fresh tears. Alphonse tried not to look at the blood as he wiped it off with a handy tissue before transmuting the shaft back into place. He knelt then, and attempted to collect his brother into his arms. Edward willingly snuggled against the hard edges. Slowly the crying came to a halt and the breathing returned to normal.

“Better, Niisan?”

“Aa…”

Alphonse did not feel it, but the faint clank told him Edward was hanging harder onto him. He pat his brother on the head and was surprised when Ed raised his fleshy hand to catch his glove and land a kiss on it, before turning around in Al’s lap and clutching that empty glove to his chest.

“Do you mind if I sleep here, Al?”

“You’ll get sick,” protested the armor. “I’m all cold.”

“Cold is good. It’ll help extinguishing the fire in my ass.” Edward’s attempt at speaking lightly wasn’t successful, but Al made a point of giggling a little anyway.

“All right. Good night, Niisan.”

“Good night…and thank you…Al.”

Alphonse didn’t understand why Niisan wanted this. He didn’t understand why Niisan craved it so badly, the pain and the wounds. But he was ready to do anything to make his brother feel better, even hurt him like this from time to time. Although, he often thought it might be nice to do this for pleasure instead of pain. He would have liked to try. Maybe, one day…

“Niisan?”

“Mm?”

“I’d like…I’d like to do that as a human. But…without hurting you.” Edward’s long silence worried Al. “Niisan? Did I say something wrong? I was just…”

“Nah, it’s…it’s fine, Al. I think I’d like that too.” He shifted slightly, pain radiating through his lower body, and found a suitable position to endure his bruises. He went to sleep, looking much more relaxed than he had a few hours ago. Alphonse watched him, preferring to spend the long hours of the night watching over his brother than drifting off in the semi-comatose state that was his sleep. Even with puffy eyes and a drained face, Ed was beautiful. Carefully, Al brought two fingers to Edward’s eyelids, knowing the cold metal would help reduce the swelling. A sigh of contentment escaped the now-asleep blond.

Alphonse bent his head a little, touching the top of his older sibling’s head with the large bump of metal on the armor’s face. Right now, it was the closest to a kiss he could give. But, one day soon, he’d have real lips and he would be able to use them to kiss his brother properly. Sometimes, it was the only thing that made him think hanging on through this nightmare was worth it.

***

As far as I know, I was the first to write English armor!Al and Ed. (Industria was right behind me though.) Should I be proud or shall I be lynched? ^^;;