What happens when WAFF meets PWP: feeling good, little plot required.
They say that a wizard lives in the log cabin, on the other side of the dark woods and the silver river.
He's a pessimist with an ego seven miles long; he's a scientist, too, doesn't approve of Al's books.
"YOU HAVE JUST INTERRUPTED AN IMPORTANT TRIP. IF YOU WISH TO NOT BE BEATEN WITHIN AN INCH OF YOUR LIFE, YOU BETTER ABANDON THE TRAIN RIGHT NOW!"
"This one's for you, Al." Edward swore, raised the glass to his lips, and braced for the impact.
... to prove his point, he wields his tongue as he would a pen, hastily spelling out the letters P-E-R-V-E-R-T with his saliva...
There was a lot to be said for experimentation, Ed thought later, when Al was curled up in his arms as Winry fussed in the bathroom.
Ed imagined Al's expression would look something like Fletcher's did right now.
Alphonse settled for a barely audible sigh and hoped that his brother knew what he was doing.
So, really, it was only fair that Ed's first, instinctive reaction when Roy hit the ground after slipping off the roof was to snort and tell him, "I told you so."
Ed's heart began pounding in anticipation of the rush he'd feel when the process was over.
"Hey! She did it blindfolded! No one else could do that! And better her than that old hag!"
It was the truth, but it sounded lame upon Edward's lips; the way her eyes hooded, she seemed to think so, anyway.
A hand was extended, and he finally, finally took it, even if he didn't use it to pull himself up.
It didn't fool Al one bit when his brother tried to sneak into their dorm room long after curfew, but that didn't stop Ed from trying.
Heaven is this: a short, crisp October day, the clear sky a great bowl above them, the amber valley a chalice below.
"It's cold and dark and raining, and there are thugs roaming the street - brother, have a heart! He could be killed! He could become kitten stew!"
"Stupid bullies," Ed grumbled, limping for a few steps before he remembered that he wasn't supposed to be feeling it. "Call me a girl, will they?"
"Damnit, brother," Alphonse managed, and Ed grinned at him. "I was only away for a week!"
"I know those court ordered anger management classes were years ago, but you've come such a long way."
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.
Winry sucked in a gasp, and dropped backward in shock.
Alphonse washed, and Edward dried (owing to the automail; safer not to submerge), and between the two of them the stack eventually diminished.
He would ask questions, even though Al knew he didn't particularly care, simply because he liked seeing Alphonse so animated about something.
"This is disgusting," he said aloud, then poked his head through the door and yelled, "Brother! This is disgusting!"
"I want to bring father back for her," Al had whispered the week before Christmas fell.
She laughs to see the grand scholar on his stomach on the floor of the living room, reading his sons a fairy tale from a fat little book.
"Are you saying," Al inquired, slowly, "that you never believed that I didn't blame you?"
"You know, Al, you don't have to warm yourself in the sun for me."
"He's the Fullmetal Alchemist," Alphonse interrupted, tapping his pen against his clipboard. "Are you sure you're up to the task?"
He lay back on the couch (in Roy Mustang's office, where else?) and declared , "I'm not wearing this."
The only problem was that Ed didn't know what the heck "getting some" was or what he was being congratulated for.
Both Edward and Winry were on hand day and night, looking for anything they could do to ease his way.
He was coming to read Alfons pretty well now too, and from what Al did understand he could give as good as he got.
When he received no immediate response, he drew back and let her go, and the aching vulnerability on his face made her blink in surprise.
Wouldn't it be easier, after all, to slip from beneath the blankets and return to his own bed, all but unused for the past month?
When there was no answer, he tried again, but gave up after that. It wasn't like Ed would get eaten by a rabid saucepan, or something.
His boyfriend. He wants me to be his boyfriend. He's wooing me with gifts. I'm being courted!
Anything, she reflected, is worth seeing you so genuinely happy.
"Ah, Alphonse-kun, I was wondering when you would wake up."
This would be so much easier if he could just refuse the man to his face.
Somehow, this volunteer assignment wasn't starting out exactly the way she'd hoped it would.
Apparently, years of stress had jaded Ed into thinking that if things were looking good now, then something terrible must be around the corner.
"Do you remember that song Mom used to sing to us?" He asked instead, concentrating on the tiny kinks of the inside of his detached leg.
A collection of 100 word ficlets.
At fifteen he had been intimidating; at thirty, he could be terrifying.