warm and fuzzy, gentle, sweet, maybe a bit of sap.
Theirs is a strange relationship--they know so little about each other--but somehow it's okay, as though knowledge would throw a spanner in the works.
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.
It is to such a morning that Alphonse wakes up, light pouring in through the blinds and over the bed sheets.
On Thursdays, Riza Hawkeye usually skipped the morning work and went to the office at noon.
He had never dared to dream that things could get better, astounded as he'd been by the way air tasted spilling over his tongue...
It was a pleasant thing, warm and innocently tender.
When Havoc came back from lunch, he wondered why Hawkeye was picking up scattered papers with a small and warm smile on her face.
That was unacceptable. Anger was to be expected; disgust was not allowed.
The desire to go wandering again, to never settle down... it worried Alphonse.
You're the only person on earth who will ever be able to read this message.
It was a big world out there, full of more possibilities than either of them could dream of.
He even dragged out his Best Manners for the occasion, the ones his mother had taught him so long ago.
Tenderly, Ed's flesh fingers threaded into hair that he had created — short and bronze-gold, the same downy texture that he'd recalled from childhood.
It was so terribly painful, really, the way he would smile when he was about to cry.
Edward had come into his life, taken over his life; and sometimes Roy wondered what was left of it for him.
"It's cheating," he declared at last, "To pick a fight while I ache."
It was a lousy day, depressing and the color of the sky on his way home reminded Ed of the color of the Gate and he just felt helpless and sorry and lonely and bad.
He looks like he wants to scold Ed for swearing, but is afraid to; at the thought, Ed forces his expression to soften, and gives his little brother a wan smile.
Al can see his handwriting -- which closely resembles the marks a tap-dancing spider might make if it fell in an ink pot first.
"Tall girls need not apply," Hughes read aloud, without even the trace of a smirk.
rated:K | M+F S+S | Fullmetal | mid-series | First Place, Het & Non-Het | Green Lion Winner | Riza Hawkeye | Roy Mustang | angst | humor | sweet | Elric Kyoudai | 354th FG HQ | 2004 First Kiss, Non-Het
Too many more nights of excuses are going to drive him from appropriately celibate to stark raving mad.
Anything, she reflected, is worth seeing you so genuinely happy.
Winry muttered something Scieszka couldn't quite catch, brow furrowed as she leaned in to adjust something on the switchboard.
More than once already, Edward had regretted turning down the offer of a ride home, despite the fact that the little house he shared with Alphonse was nowhere near where Havoc lived.
He has lots of women like her, who would like to be his anchor, and too many of them confuse that for throwing themselves head first into the ocean.
His ruse works; Ed dismisses him - with a harsh, impatient rejoinder that he isn't finished yet - and devotes his attention to his brother.
There were precious few memories remaining, now, dimmed with the passage of time and the years that heíd spent lacking a flesh body, but he kept them close to him all the same.
"Get out of the kitchen, brother," he snarled, waving the spatula threateningly. "I'm still cooking, damnit."
The water streamed clear and icy through his fingers- and all at once he straightened, laughing, to flick the last few drops into his brotherís face.
Itís February in Central. Thereís nothing better to do.
There is no way Alfons knows what he does to him.
It was only after the sheer sensation had abated — only when he felt on solid enough ground to focus on the subtleties of life once more — that the habit began to catch his attention.
"I want to bring father back for her," Al had whispered the week before Christmas fell.
It was sure to be a disaster.
Usually when he wanted something he just took the steps he knew were necessary to getting it.
The sunrise is spectacular, and it is the first that Edward has been awake to see in years.
"Oh, what would YOU know? said Winry. "You've never looked at a girl in your life."
"Don't worry about it," he says bossily. "I know what to do. Give me the book--don't close it--ah, thanks."
It is somewhat odd that two brothers can be so different, yet so close.
His friend is blushing, ashamed to be seen in such a condition - and this is not new, either, this is not new at all.
His tone was all weary patience, as though explaining to a child why candy was out of the question until after dinner.
Between Ed's commanding presence and the fact that Al had been an impressively large suit of spiked armor, it had been hard to get to know him much.
Roy had arched an eyebrow, cleared his throat. "Can I ask what it is about my hand that merits such an intense examination?"
Winry had been confused by the birthday present she received from Gracia, this year.
"That's what you said last time. And the time before that. And," he added, dragging the feather upward with maddening slowness, "The time before that."
Snuggling on the couch was perhaps the only place where their differences worked with each other, albeit briefly.
This new life was staggering - more so, the feel of Alphonse's shoulder, warm and flesh beneath his cheek as the train lurched out of the station.
Wasn't young love grand, perfect as crystal, flawless as the summer overtures?