[Author] Mara D
[Series] Fullmetal Alchemist
[Rating] Nc17 NOT WORK SAFE
[Spoilers?] YES. Honestly, not really, but this would make more sense if you’ve been reading “Written”
[Chatter] This if for nekoevie who “wished [I] would've added more detail about Ed masturbating over sleeping Al.. for some reason that's incredibly hot. @_@;;” Here you go girl. Enjoy. ^_^
Al was lying there on the floor, curled in on himself, face pale and weary and almost pained. The floor of the Rockbell household was the most uncomfortable floor in the history of the universe, and yet Al chose that over the spare bedroll in the living room so that he could be closer to Ed.
It wasn’t just because Ed was injured. No. It was because Al wanted to be /nearer/ to Ed, and Ed knew that. And he felt broken, more so than just lacking his automail. He was being torn in two. Torn because he was in /love/ with his /brother/ and he knew without a doubt Al felt the same way, whether he would admit it or not. Torn because he would be leading Al down a path would most likely not end in happiness.
He knew he had no right to make decisions for his brother, but he was afraid that Al would humor him if he told him. Make a decision based on loyalty and not common sense.
But there was always the worry that this was what Al really wanted, and he would be miserable and reckless with his life if Ed told him no. Either way, Ed would break and damn his brother, and he didn’t know what to do other than to do nothing and hope that this would all change.
But then he was staring at Al again, shivering in the moonlight. His brother was dreaming now, the soft motion of his eyelids, the rise and fall of that chest. The slight smile in the rise of that cupid-bow mouth. His eyebrows were lowered at the corners as he made a tiny vulnerable sound and rolled a bit closer to Ed, his shirt riding up to bare the smooth and milky skin of a side, lean muscles bowing to create the groove that began at the top of Al’s hip and disappeared below the band of those shorts. It would yield to that space between hip and stomach, that smooth and perfect line of that perfect body that he had re-sculpted from memory alone.
He swallowed hard as Al made a tiny moan in his sleep, his fingers twitching as he dreamed.
There was a tightness in his shorts that would not be relieved, no matter the fact that he rolled over and refused to look at Al anymore. He tucked his cheek against the back of the couch, closing his eyes, trying to think of anything at all that was as far from sexy as possible. The problem was, that it didn’t work. That Al was still murmuring and whimpering in his sleep. The problem was that the whimpers didn’t sound pained, and Ed didn’t dare to wonder. Even if Al was having a nightmare, he wouldn’t wake him because he knew how he looked, hard and sweaty and blushed.
There was only one cure for this, and he didn’t even think as he used his one good hand to push his boxers down, to clasp himself in his hand. The touch was familiar, a bit lackluster and calloused, but that was how life went. It was just his hand. It was just himself, and he was only doing this to take the edge off.
He tried to not picture Al, to not hear his whimpering in his sleep, but the harder he bit his lip, the longer he concentrated, the more he saw Al’s innocent face, that beautiful lean body. It hurt to do this. He wasn’t even using spit, just the bit of wetness from the tip and it was not enough, but even the hurt felt good.
When he climaxed, Al’s name was on his lips, a soft chant.
He shuddered, bucked into the couch as the whiteness overtook his vision. But then he realized something rather regretful. He couldn’t get up to go clean off, there was nothing here to clean the mess on the couch. He didn’t want Auntie or Winry to see…but he didn’t want Al to see or know this, know his disgrace. Even if Al didn’t think it was he that Ed fantasized about, he would still probably feel badly, be disgusted, or both.
He felt the tears well up unbidden. He was simply ashamed and there was nothing else for it. He found himself sobbing quietly into the pillow nearby, again, too traumatized to make a decision, living instead in frustrated inaction.
Cross posted to: elricest fma_yaoi fm_alchemist yaoicest