scimitarsmile

Menu

kaltia

Difference


It is somewhat odd that two brothers can be so different, yet so close. One is smaller, with hair and eyes of bright gold; the other—the younger, strangely enough—is taller, his hair and eyes a smooth bronze.

The differences extend to personalities as well; Alphonse is calm and rational, preferring to dissolve a situation peacefully rather than fight, while his brother is prone to fits of sudden uncontrollable rage whenever he hears the words 'short' or 'milk'.

It makes sense, then, that they would be different in the bedroom. Edward prefers brief but passionate sex, wild outbursts of rapid thrusting then falling asleep almost straight away. This approach is not for his brother, though, who likes things slow and tender, hands gliding over skin, kisses and affectionate licks.

Alphonse, of course, is bound to win his way. He can be very charming, sweet and above all else persuasive when he chooses to be, like now, with Edward's chest rising and falling with his rapid breathing as Al teases his nipples slowly, so slowly. Al takes a small measure of satisfaction at the sight, raising his head from his brother's chest to observe him flushed, eyes half-lidded and mouth partially open with pleasure. His heart clenches but he ignores it, leaning up to kiss his brother's face and throat and shoulders, nipping lightly at a hard line of collarbone, gnawing on Ed's lower lip, painting the roof of his brother's mouth with his own tongue. Ed is making odd little whining noises, and Al brushes their noses together as he breaks the kiss, pulling out from Edward's mouth. His brother scrabbles on the pillow as he reaches up for him, but Al easily bats the groping hands away, drawing a transmutation circle with his tongue over his brother's abdomen—a circle, some lines, a little hook; a circle which he'd never actually been able to see but had known intrinsically, as the only thing tying him to this world.

Ed purrs, shoulders rubbing back against the sheets as he runs the fingers of his left hand gently through Al's hair. Al stops what he's doing, closing his eyes to better concentrate on the wonderful sensation; the fingers dragging over his scalp are firm yet kind, loving and powerful. When they slow, as Ed notices the lack of response from him, he obediently dips his head back to press his lips against soft skin, and sees no need to try and hide his smile as he does so.

There's a jar of oil beside the bed, on Al's side of it, since he's the one who mostly ends up applying it. He leans over and extends an arm for it, pops the lid with a broad thumb and scoops the amount he needs over one palm. He rubs his hands together to warm it; Ed, knowing what's going to happen, lifts his hips up and spreads his legs willingly, and Al places a kiss against the inside of his thigh. The tiny motion, so close to his brother's hardness, causes an involuntary shudder and a weak moan; Al laughs as he slips a slick finger into his brother, and Ed answers with a choked curse. Al kisses the tip of Ed's erection to make up for any hurt, and Ed lets out a long and content sigh, choosing to focus on this sensation rather than the finger—fingers—currently pushing and stretching him from inside. A flash of discomfort passes over his brother's face, but then Al takes the head of his cock in his mouth even as his fingers press a little further, open him up a little more, and find that spot, the one which has Ed's thighs shaking and his head falling back on the bed as he moans, gasping Al's name as he does so. Al releases him and smiles, nuzzling the side of one knee softly, then lifts his brother's hips up further with one hand and oils his own cock with the other.

He pauses before moving, watching Ed intently; his brother's breathing slows and he nods, twice, deliberately. Al takes the gesture as it was intended; lines the tip of his cock up with his lover's entrance and pushes, sliding into Ed on a long, slow burn. Ed groans and Al feels like copying him; his brother feels so good inside, tightness and heat, and the way his muscles clench involuntarily feels wonderful. He kisses Ed's stomach again, coaxing his brother into relaxing slowly, and then when Ed does, begins to move.

It's not hard. They've done this before, countless times, and by now Al knows Ed's body so well that he's got it down perfectly, knows the exact angle, knows how long he can keep thrusting and how to build the pleasure up for his brother until it's unbearable, then how to release him in the best possible way.

Ed's quiet during sex, which surprised the hell out of both parties the first time. He moans Al's name when he comes and when he's first penetrated, but the time between those exclamations is spent in silence, interspersed with Al's gasping and panting, and the springs of the mattress creaking in time with the steady thrusts. Al's good, and Ed's skin is soon dappled lightly with sweat; his head is tipped back, chest rising and falling rapidly, and he licks his lips almost blindly as the pleasure flares inside him. Al's breathing is coming faster, too, as he nears climax; Ed's body is wonderful inside, and it's so hard, so hard to hold out against the tug of feeling, the desire and need and want mixing together all at once. There's stars behind his eyes and he can't even imagine what it must feel like for Ed, but the weak groans his brother's making, the soft gasps for air, the flushed cheeks and glowing eyes, these things all offer some clue. He opens his mouth, tries to speak, and Ed squeezes with his thighs and he shifts and then Ed purrs at the movement and ah, god—

He keeps on thrusting through his orgasm, blinded by the fireworks exploding before his eyes, the light that dazzles him. Lost to instinct, to feeling, he doesn't really notice himself, still thrusting raggedly, reach out to take a firm grip on his brother's cock and pump, once, twice, and then Ed comes over his palm with a messy yelp.

The lights fade and he collapses over his brother, still inside him and still dizzy and content with the after effects of that pleasure. Dimly he raises his hand to his mouth and licks the semen from it; Ed moves underneath him, and when his hand is clean begins petting his hair softly. Al makes a small happy sound, leaning back and pulling out of Ed before promptly sprawling back over him again. Ed smiles and pats his cheek, kisses the top of his head and drapes his arms over Al's back, and Al falls asleep to the sound of Ed's steady, strong breathing, lulled by the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Ed watches him for a while, then follows him into a light doze; his last thought before he relaxes completely is that sometimes, a little variety is good.