Edward sucked in a gasp and hissed it out slowly, eyes glazed with the tendrils of anticipatory pleasure spidering across his nerves.

"Al," the boy began threateningly, and shifted against the covers—but Alphonse had chosen exactly that moment to mouth a spot a bit higher up on his thigh, and what had been meant as a warning came out thick with desire instead, needy and breathless.

The tip of the younger boy's tongue traced a delicate line up to the ridge of his hip bone, where it paused to circle back and lap thoughtfully at the hollow just below. There was no response in words, but bronze eyes rose to greet him, burning warm with an equal mix of want and affection.

The sight was enough to drive the breath from his lungs, and Ed reached without pausing to think, cupped his brother's face with a hand of cold steel. Gleaming silver traced the planes of one smooth, still-pale cheek, the carress achingly, carefully gentle, as it always was when he used the automail this way. And Alphonse moved in response to the gesture, allowed himself to be drawn slowly upward so that he straddled Edward's hips, torturously close but not touching.

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. "You're a fucking tease," the smaller boy murmured softly, and leaned up to claim his brother's lips in a kiss.

It was long and heated, exploratory—and every time he attempted to turn it into something more unrestrained, Alphonse would slow down, pull back just slightly, smile with lips and eyes and proceed to drive his brother insane.

"Al," the older boy whimpered softly, when they'd parted once more.

Alphonse took his time answering the plea, lips closing firmly over a patch of skin on Edward's neck and sucking gently. "You promised, brother," he said at last, when he'd pulled back; those gentle eyes were dark with desire now, and they devoured the sight before them, avid and watchful. "You said you'd let me." A single finger traced a line down Ed's stomach, and the boy moaned beneath the simple touch, unable to help himself.

"Can't," Edward panted, voice strained, "You look at me after?"

"But I love seeing you like this," Al confessed quietly, and skated the edge of his fingernail gently across an exposed nipple. The body beneath him shuddered and squirmed, pleasure lighting up his brother's expressive face.

It was a moment before the smaller boy could find the will to speak. "Soon, then?" he managed, already flushed face coloring further at the hopeful note that he couldn't quite keep from the tone.

"Maybe," Alphonse granted, noncommittal, and turned his attention back to the exposed flesh beneath him. "But really, brother—you did agree." Warm lips lowered to pick up where fingers had left off. "And we've got to teach you to be patient somehow."