Ed did not want to die without seeing Alphonse again.
Alphonse settled for a barely audible sigh and hoped that his brother knew what he was doing.
"Listen, bastard... Do you always have to do things the hard way? You never, ever make it easy for me."
It was honestly not a kiss.
Too many more nights of excuses are going to drive him from appropriately celibate to stark raving mad.
There was a terrible vulnerability to Roy when his cover slipped, and it made Ed uncomfortable.
He reminds Alfons of himself, in a way, back after he'd been first diagnosed with his illness; when he used to get up and stare at his face in the washbasin mirror every day and think, I am too young for this.
The house rumbled gently, as a cat purrs, and Alphonse tied off the braid, pressing his hands to Edward's scalp one more time before dropping them to his side.
It was just the men today, sitting around drinking coffee and playing cards and waiting for the paint to peel or the Fuhrer-in-Training to request they do something.
He was a version of his brother if he'd grown up, but fainter, as though he'd been diluted in the bright light of the Gate.
It was well known around Central headquarters that Roy Mustang was lusting after the visiting Major-General.
"Because," said Al flatly, "Roy is dark and handsome and--most importantly of all--charming. And you're short and blond and obnoxious."
I'm going to kill Ed when he gets back, Al told the General. I just thought I should tell you in advance in case there's paperwork.
Sometimes, he really wished that sleeping dogs would have been left alone...
Two boys, two faces, two fates, alive and dead at the same time, at different times, nothing in common, everything in common, one thing in common: him.
No alchemical reaction could sustain fire without fuel forever.
How do you find someone who barely existed in this world now that they're gone?
"You're getting quite the list," Roy said. "Not that I am any sort of advocate for monogamy, but you certainly are taking full advantage of playing the field."
God, he's gorgeous, even cut up. Especially cut up.
"Don't look so downcast!" orders Mustang, grinning maniacally. "Our honour is at stake! Don't let me down! Sometimes you just have to take one for the team!"
rated:K-L | M+F S+S | Mangaverse | pre-series | SP: no plot spoilers but stars characters we meet up t | Briggs Bears | Buccaneer | Miles | Olivia Mira Armstrong | Roy Mustang | 354th FG HQ | Rebecca Catalina
If killers and empty assassin armor hadn't frightened him, half a foot of park bench shouldn't leave him feeling so useless and pathetic.
He would have been crying for a long time, but the tears seem to have frozen in this damn cold too.
"Don't go to sleep," he murmurs into Ed's hair, and thinks of their mother, long ago, telling a story about spinning straw into gold.
Al crouches down on a dune looking down on the camp and draws an array in the sand, thinking of Gunnar with a dull pang of grief.
"Can I trust you," Ed's dewy eyes were huge and he looked somehow younger than he'd ever looked before.
It started with Ling's lips simply pressed up against Ed's. Well, of course it did. That was how kisses sort of went, but this was, well, a bit surprising.
"You and I? Sleeping together?" Hughes snorted disdain, and spared a hand to push his glasses back up his face. "Ridiculous!"
He was only human though, and he had given into his rage at having to deal with Edward's dysfunction--and now Edward was gone, and it looked more and more like he might not be coming back.
It really irritated him that he did have ten years of experience and Roy could look at him and drop his voice a little and Ed squirmed.
Alphonse had thought that he must have the bravest brother in the world.
Dear Ed: I miss you more than you can ever know.
Envy could rip him and all the worlds in two.
They smuggled Al out of Central and back to Rizembul, where they rented a small house with room for Ed's books and Al's wings.
Ed's heart began pounding in anticipation of the rush he'd feel when the process was over.
There were good things about having Mustang around, least of which was when one forgot their matches.
They would have had a bitter bitchfight had both suddenly not stopped and realized it was all Roy's fault.
There was really too much good happening today to allow room for imperfection, in his humble opinion.
Roy Mustang had his own addiction, and it was very simple: Roy Mustang was addicted to lieutenants.
If you want to find Edward Elric in Central City, you have to be a National Alchemist.
All it took was a push of his hand and the twist of a small brass key to put it out of sight.
"So ...." Havoc tried to look nonchalant. "Fullmetal's hair is, uh ... bright."
"That angel hated God's second born. He was jealous. Why was he so easy to cast aside and walk away from?"
Life, the Fullmetal Alchemist decided viciously, wasn't fair.
At fifteen he had been intimidating; at thirty, he could be terrifying.
He wanted Hughes to know how many lines he had crossed in his lifetime.
Alfons prays for the day when he will return to a far-off Edward, and somehow miraculously find the words, the actions, to call him back from his imaginary world.
"Brother says Mr. Mustang grabbed his behind today while he was at the blackboard," he explained as his blush slowly faded, and Ed scowled.