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Playing by the Rules


Not many people know that Edward Elric is a romantic soul. There's nothing about him that conjures an image of candles and moonlight and flowers and other such clichés, and that, at least, is true. Edward doesn't set much stock by symbolism and sappy declarations of everlasting affection.

But there are rules in his home, rules that both his brother and Alphonse Heiderich have to obey. No spontaneous, 'we were playing poker one minute and the next we were on the floor with lube transmuted from water' sex; he has to be warned beforehand, so he can get things ready. No bondage, perhaps because he is aware that he'll end up being the one tied up. No kinks, no cross-dressing, no tag-team threesomes, and all pets must be ushered out of the room beforehand. Both the Als find this mildly annoying, and often turn to each other for sex while Ed is at the office, rather than have to 'book' in advance.

"We need to ambush him," Alphonse Heiderich says, still idly running a hand down his counter-part's side. "I got him once in a hotel in Transylvania with a rope while he was still asleep."

Al raises his face from his arms and blinks at the blond. "What do you mean, you 'got him'? Do you mean you tied my brother up?"

"Yep," Alphonse says peaceably. "He squirms like you wouldn't believe when you do that, but it's definitely worth it."

"I can imagine it is," Al replies, rolling onto his back. "Are you going to suck me off, or are you just going to continue talking about my brother?"

"Sorry." Alphonse pushes himself up on his hands and lightly runs a finger up the underside of Al's cock with skill that speaks of many years of practise, grinning as Al squirms at the contact. He rolls onto his belly, wriggling a little closer to his bronze-eyed counterpart, and drops his hand to cup Al's balls, gently; Al yelps, hands clenching in the bed sheets, and tips his head back with a long gasp at the sensation.

"Is this... something else you did to brother?" Al manages, and Alphonse snorts as he shifts to lie in between the smaller boy's legs. Al's erection stands out, proudly, from the line of his body; a remnant from the sex they'd had before the conversation started. Alphonse has to admit that the kid has stamina, and a somewhat iron self-control. If his older brother had been unsatisfied for nearly this long, Ed might explode, or something along those lines. Patience had never been Ed's thing.

"Of course," he says, and laughs. "I taught him everything he knows, you realise that?"

Al lowers himself down on his elbows, and gives a tired grin. "Yeah," he says, "I gathered. Now—less talking, more tongue, please?"

"Oh—sorry," Alphonse apologises, curling his fingers around the base of Al's cock and leaning forward to wrap his lips around the head. Al twitches as pleasure sparks through him, drawing a helpless whimper from his mouth. Damn, he has to hand it to the blond; he's good. As Alphonse's tongue works its way across Al's erection, exploring the texture and the taste of the boy, his hand loosely pumps the shaft; Al writhes on the sheets, trying his best not to thrust into the warmth, and makes small, helpless noises at the back of his throat.

Heat pools at the base of his spine, and winds slow, gentle tendrils throughout the rest of his body as Alphonse continues touching him, licking him, drawing back and sucking on the very tip of him. Very slowly, the buzz of warm, slow pleasure begins to work its way up his back, heading for his spine; before it even reaches his shoulders, though, the front door of the little apartment slams open. Alphonse, startled, lets go; Al weakly tries to encourage him back, to finish the job, his thoughts scattered and confused, until he realises that the intruder is speaking.

"Hey, guys, got sent home early today. Where are you?" There's a clink as Edward puts his door keys on the table in the living room, and the two Als look at each other, abruptly aware that they are in trouble.

"I'll head him off," Alphonse whispers, "I've got the most clothes on—you get in the bathroom and finish yourself off and get dressed, okay?"

Al bites his lip. "Okay," he replies, voice pitched low, "Good luck."

The agreement, however, is in vain; Alphonse has barely swung his legs off the side of the bed when Edward pushes the door open. His eyes widen as he takes in the spectacle—Alphonse, clothing rumpled and frozen with his blue eyes wide; Al utterly naked, his cock still hard and a matching expression of guilty terror on his face. Once he gets over the surprise, Ed crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the door frame, gold eyes thin and narrow. "So," he says, mildly, "Care to explain?"

"Um." Alphonse licks his lips, and gives Al a petrified glance over his shoulder; the younger brother shrugs in mutual bewilderment. "Well, you see, we were—"

"What did I say? Keep it in your pants until I get home! Do I go off and have sex with one of you and leave the other out? Hell no."

"Oh, come on, brother," Al complains heatedly, pushing himself up. "I was supposed to just sit around and wait for you to come back and then wait for you to be in the mood for sex before I could make this go away?" He gestures at his crotch. "I'm a teenage boy, brother! We all are! It's not my fault, or Alphonse's, if you have no hormones, is it?"

"Who did you say—?!" Edward pushed himself off the door frame, drawing himself up to his full, unimpressive, height. "I do too have hormones!"

Alphonse snorts. "Really? Where?" he asks scathingly. "I haven't seen 'em, and neither has your brother." Ed's brows draw together, and Al can sense one of his brother's trade-mark temper tantrums approaching. ("WHO DID YOU SAY HAS SO FEW HORMONES HE CAN'T GET IT UP?!")

"Brother," he says, and sighs. "Come here, please." He uses his most charming voice, and it works, because after a moment or two of hedging, Edward approaches, warily. He puts a knee on the edge of the bed—not climbing onto it, his resting his weight against it—and, as Al knew he would, Alphonse jumps him.

"What the FUCK?" Ed yelps before he's pinned down, kissed messily and hungrily. Alphonse tears at the smaller boy's coat, deprives him of his jacket and shirt, all the while not removing his mouth from Ed's, keeping the kiss hot and intense. Al heaves a sigh, and pushes his legs out in front of him; lifts fine honey-coloured eyebrows, and grins as Ed stops struggling to get away and starts struggling to get closer, arms pawing at Alphonse's back and his own teeth flashing as they nibble at the blond's lower lip.

"Hey, Al," Alphonse manages when they break apart to recover their breath, "Do me a favour?"

"Hmm?"

"Get him naked." Edward rears up and claims Alphonse's mouth again, and with a sigh, Al pushes himself over to them. His own erection throbs as the couple tangle themselves even closer together, and it takes him several minutes to nudge them apart before he can start wrestling with Ed's belt. Alphonse pushes his brother onto his side and begins to nip at his throat; but it takes much longer to get his brother's tight leather trousers undone, and to work them down his thighs and off his feet. His brother doesn't wear underwear, and as soon as Al is finished with him, grinds his groin very pointedly against Alphonse's.

Alphonse breaks off with a gasp, hand rising to clutch Edward's hipbone; he shoots a pleading look at Al, who manages to insinuate himself between his brother and Alphonse to give the taller boy time enough to fetch the lube from the living room.

It doesn't take much effort to get Edward to suck him off. Al simple pushes himself into a sitting position, legs spread as wide as he can, and Edward does the rest for him, with no encouragement; Al buries his fingers in fine golden hair, grinning wolfishly as his brother licks and sucks, with more eagerness than skill. It seems Ed was right about possessing hormones, after all.

Ed's mouth is hot and wet and perfect, bringing him closer to the edge than Alphonse did. Al supposes it must be something about his brother; although Alphonse possesses more skill, Edward is willing and eager and beautiful, all slender body and half-lidded golden eyes that seem to glow with pleasure. His tongue laps down the underside of Al's cock, over his balls, and then back up; he kisses the tip, wraps his lips around the head and sucks gently, and it's enough for Al, who fists his hands in Ed's hair hard enough to hurt as he comes, finally, after waiting so long.

Ed attempts to swallow what is given, but fails and cleans Al up with his tongue, instead. When he pushes himself up, licking the last traces of fluid from his chin and expression as smug as Mustang's has ever been, Al manages a weak smile for him. He leans forward to place a kiss on his brother's forehead, just as Alphonse comes in, the small jar in his hand.

"Okay, found it—oh. Al, I had something in mind for you!"

Ed gently rolls his younger brother onto his side, gives him another kiss. "Pass that over here," he says, not removing his eyes from his brother's dazed form; when Alphonse pitches him the jar, catches it in his automail hand with the warning clink of glass on steel. "Strip," he orders, and Alphonse sighs.

"I don't know, Ed," he says, "Do you know what to do?"

"Fuck you, Alphonse Heiderich," Ed growls, and Alphonse smirks, but doesn't respond with the obvious comeback. He does, however, hook his thumbs into the hem of his shirt, and pull it off over his head (one thing to be said for Amestrian fashion; no braces) and discard it to one the side of the bed.

Ed uncaps the little bottle, and pours its contents over the fingers off his good hand. Some escapes and splashes onto the bedding, and he wrinkles his nose; he'll have to get one of the Als to clean them the next morning, and knows, with a flash of wicked glee, that it'll be Alphonse who gets saddled with the chore, for making a remark about his inexperience. "You ready?" he asks, without looking up; starts when Alphonse leans over to kiss him.

"Yeah," Al says, when he draws back. "Remember to go slow, okay?"

Ed frowns, slanting him a displeased glare through narrowed eyes. "Yeah, yeah," he says, "I know what I'm doing, Al. Quit bitching." Beside him, Al stirs; pushes himself up and rubs his eyes. He looks like he's not going to be moving anywhere for a while, which is fine; Ed pats him on the thigh with the hand not coated in lubricant, and shifts across the bed towards Alphonse, and grabs the taller boy's chin with a metal hand, pulling their jaws together in a kiss that will leave bruises, later.

He leans into Alphonse, pushing him off balance, and Alphonse ends up on his back, over the bedcovers. Only then does Ed allow him to breathe, drawing back and grinning, teeth very white in his face. "You ready?" he asks casually, placing his good hand, slick with the oil, on Alphonse's thigh.

Alphonse nods, lifting his hips, and spreads his legs. "Of course," he says, "Are you?"

"Fuck you," Ed says lazily, and his hand slides inwards, downwards, over the curve of Alphonse's buttock and down towards his entrance. "I'm a lot better than you think I am, you know."

Alphonse's lip curves up, exposing his teeth in a wordless grimace, as Edward slips the tip of his index finger inside. "Sure," he says, "I must've been imagining that time—ah, Ed, slow down!"

Ed kisses the inside of his knee, the tip of his finger twitching, and grins as he says, "Sure. What time were you talking about?"

Alphonse peers up at him in the space between his parted knees, and grins, teeth flashing in a manner unnervingly similar to Edward's. "Nothing," he says, "I must've been imagining it."

Ed hums agreement, and slips another finger inside, slowly, and watches Alphonse's face intently as he does so for any sign of pain. "Thought so," he says, brightly, and raises his eyebrows. "Anyone ever told you that you look gorgeous when you're being fucked?"

"No," Alphonse manages, after a little pause, and parts his legs all the more. "No, I think you're the firssssssst..." The words trail off in a hiss when Ed slips the third finger inside, his shoulders tensing, his eyes squeezing shut of their own accord; but Ed's fingers are moving, searching, and then there's a spark of something warm and gentle curving up his spine, and he unclenches his jaw and feels his body relaxing.

"Got it," Ed whispers, pleased; he flexes his fingers a little more, and then withdraws them, wiping his hand absently on the bed sheets and reaching for the little bottle again. "Okay," he says, as he rubs the oil over his cock, "You—?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm ready," Alphonse snaps, shifting. "Can you hurry it up? It's kinda cold."

"You're so damn impatient," Ed whispers, shifting a little. "Raise your hips. Mmm, a little bit more. Yeah, that's good. Okay—" and he pushes, his hips rocking forward slowly, and Alphonse gasps, his head flung back in surprise.

Behind Ed, Al stirs, shifting on the sheets; blearily shakes his head, as if to clear it, and blinks up at the sight of his older brother fucking his near-identical twin into the mattress. He slinks closer—his body is still thrumming slightly, with a vague, smug sort of pleasure—and rears up, placing his palms on Ed's shoulder blades; leans forward to kiss the back of his brother's neck, the skin cool and slippery with his perspiration.

Edward doesn't respond to this pressure, too busy with the beautiful distraction that is Alphonse. The blond is panting for breath; his body is hot, and he's so very wonderfully tight, almost as if he were a virgin. Not that he is, as Ed knows from his own experience; but nevertheless, he is gorgeous, especially laid out before Ed like this, naked and wanting. As if Ed were the only one who could satisfy him.

Al's hands slide down to Edward's hips, feeling the play of muscles under his hands as Ed thrusts into Alphonse, again and again, and nuzzles into his brother's back, into the sharp ridge of his spinal cord. "I love you," he whispers, against Ed's skin; his brother's rhythm slows, faltering with Ed buried to the hilt inside Alphonse, and Ed tilts his head.

"Al?" he says, voice unsure, and Al kisses his back.

"Carry on," he says, and lets his lips curl up into a smile. "Please?"

When Edward resumes his activity, Alphonse panting and moaning and calling out his brother's name—Alphonse is never silent in bed, unlike Al; he's a natural shouter, and when he takes Ed, Al can sometimes hear them from the garden. And while his brother is fucking Alphonse, teeth gritted and a determined light in his gorgeous golden eyes, Al slips his hands up his brother's body, up over his rib cage, feeling the bumps of his ribs over his hands, and to his nipples. Ed's torso jerks beneath him, even though his hips do not slow; Alphonse pinches the tiny little buds between his thumbs and his index fingers, rolling them in his grip, and his brother moans at the same time as a particularly deep thrust forces a yelp out of Alphonse.

Edward makes a strange whining noise at the back of his throat, obviously caught between wanting to thrust forward, into Alphonse, and wanting to lean back to allow Al to use his tongue on his nipples, too. After a few more moments of suspense, Al allows his pity to rule him; releases one of his brother's nipples, slipping his hand, instead, down Edward's chest, down the flat plane of his stomach, onwards; to Alphonse's cock, hard and damp with pre-cum. And neither of his partners protest when he circles the shaft, gently, slicking his hand in Alphonse's fluids first to ensure easier access; neither protest when his fist moves up and down gently, Ed instead pulling back to thrust in again. Al pinches the nipple he still has hold of with his other hand, and runs his thumbnail, painfully slowly, across the tip over as his thumb circles the crown of Alphonse's cock, spiralling inwards towards the slit.

Alphonse comes first, with a hoarse whine, his spine arching up slightly off the bed; he evidently tightens around Ed when he does so, as Al's brother follows him shortly after, his hands—previously gripping Alphonse's thighs, for balance—tightening as his body gives in to the emotions. His brother tips his head back when he comes, and Al rears up, grips his jaw in both hands to slide his tongue into his brother's mouth in a kiss long and messy.

It takes a while for both Edward and Alphonse to recover; Alphonse does first, squirming slightly until Edward gets the hint, gently pushes Al away, and pulls out of him. They curl up together, both Al and Alphonse on either side of Edward, after; the long-haired boy's lips are parted, and his eyes are slightly unfocused, the pupil dilated. "Good plan," Al says mildly, over his brother's chest; Alphonse gives him a sleepy smile.

"I wasn't planning anything, but if it works, who'm I to whinge?" he asks, the sentence ending on an abrupt yawn. Edward blinks, and shakes his head to clear it; peers down his body, to his brothers lying heavy against his side.

"Wait, what are you—what do you—what was that all about?"

"Isn't spontaneous sex fun, brother?" Al whispers, attempting to look as sweet as he possibly can. Edward sets his jaw, a vague blush rising in his cheeks, and mumbles, "Yes," in a very small voice. Alphonse tosses Al a wink, and snuggles closer.

"Were we good?" he whispers, and Ed nods sharply. "Did you enjoy yourself?"

"Yes! Okay, fine, I was wrong about the spontaneous sex thing. Look, consider the rule lifted and stop being so damn smug, okay?"

Al grins victory at his counterpart, a grin Alphonse returns smugly. They do not push the point, however, each choosing to curl slightly closer to Ed's body; they have won this round, and crowing will not bring anything but annoyance, on Ed's part.

They've repealed one of Edward's idiotic laws, but more remain. Next they'll have to surprise Ed with the handcuffs resting in the bottom drawer of the bedside cabinet.

But that's something for another time, Al thinks softly, as across from him Alphonse's breathing smoothes into the familiar patterns of sleep. For now, cuddling is enough; just being able to curl up with his brother, and with Alphonse, being capable of feeling the warmth, and the gentle satisfaction radiating from both of his brothers; knowing that they are his, and he is theirs, for as long as the three of them wish it.

The knowledge, he finds, gives him a little buzz in his chest; a fierce little glow, of happiness, and more. And when Ed shifts, wrapping his flesh arm, warm and alive, around Al's waist, to tug his little brother even closer to the line of his body, he knows what this giddy feeling is, that leaves him so breathless: love, and plenty of it.

It is, he decides, feeling Ed's heartbeat against his cheek, hearing Alphonse's soft, even breathing, one of the best feelings in the world.