Wow, I never use this icon.
Sorting through old fic folders looking for my brain, stumbled across a sketch from forever ago that I've never gotten around to writing the story to. Now declaring it Sketch Amnesty Matinee time.
Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed and Al, a post-series short scene thingummy written omg three years ago wow.
After Al was restored, there wasn't anything, so far as Ed could tell, that he was reticent about. He was cryptic about a great many things, but not particularly hesitant about discussing what was on his mind. As evidenced by the morning he strolled up to Ed, who'd been stretching under the tree out back of the Rockbell house and said, without preamble, "This hormones thing. You didn't tell me about that."
Ed bent slowly down to the grass, to give himself time to think. What was he supposed to say?
"Um. They're normal?"
Al narrowed his eyes. "That's what the books say."
Ed checked the distance to the tree trunk next to him. It would be weird to hide behind it. And they were bound to have this talk sooner or later anyway. "You get used to it," he offered.
Al's stare was uncompromising. "Get used to it."
"Well. Sort of. Cold showers help."
"I think I'm coming out of my skin, brother."
Ed nodded. "Yeah. That sounds about right. It just happens. I think it happens less when you get older."
"That's all you did about it? Cold showers?"
"And I blew stuff up a lot."
Al cocked his head to one side, considering. "That actually makes a lot of sense now. Okay. Yeah." He nodded, as if Ed had just explained a particularly convoluted bit of math to him, and it had all finally clicked.
Then he thought further. "What about sex?"
Ed dug his fingers into the dirt. Shoulda seen that one coming. He tried looking at the question from one angle, then another. Al crossed his arms like he had all the time in the world. It was distracting.
"You wanna spar?" he finally asked.
Al weighed him up in a long stare. "Let me guess. You thought about it, and went out and picked fights instead."
"Well you were there, what the hell else was I gonna do?" Ed huffed and glared, and Al ignored it with the annoying ease of long practice.
"You know, in retrospect, that's a little screwed up."
Ed was all set to answer that in retrospect, their whole lives had been monumentally screwed up. But then he looked up and saw his brother, his messy thatch of brown hair, and persistent frown of a terrier worrying a bit of rag in its teeth, and this was his brother, whole, not a worrisome hollow suit of armor anymore.
And maybe for the first time it struck him, really sunk in deep, that those days were over. They were free now, to do anything at all they wanted. It was like a seven-hundred pound oxcart had finally rolled off his shoulders, and Ed thought he might float right off the ground. A giggle bubbled up out of him, and then another, and then suddenly he was on his back in the grass, laughing himself hoarse.
Al watched him with a raised eyebrow and a faint grin. "Somehow I don't think I'm going to get anything useful out of you."
Ed rolled on his side, holding his ribs and gasping. Six years of cold showers, belligerence, and wanton reconstruction of public property, because he couldn't get laid and god, it was par for the course really. But none of that shit, none of it owned him anymore, and Ed laughed until he about choked, just because he could.
It took about a day for him to realize that Al had opened up an interesting can of worms, actually.
*****
Fullmetal Alchemist, Ed and Al, a post-series short scene thingummy written omg three years ago wow.
After Al was restored, there wasn't anything, so far as Ed could tell, that he was reticent about. He was cryptic about a great many things, but not particularly hesitant about discussing what was on his mind. As evidenced by the morning he strolled up to Ed, who'd been stretching under the tree out back of the Rockbell house and said, without preamble, "This hormones thing. You didn't tell me about that."
Ed bent slowly down to the grass, to give himself time to think. What was he supposed to say?
"Um. They're normal?"
Al narrowed his eyes. "That's what the books say."
Ed checked the distance to the tree trunk next to him. It would be weird to hide behind it. And they were bound to have this talk sooner or later anyway. "You get used to it," he offered.
Al's stare was uncompromising. "Get used to it."
"Well. Sort of. Cold showers help."
"I think I'm coming out of my skin, brother."
Ed nodded. "Yeah. That sounds about right. It just happens. I think it happens less when you get older."
"That's all you did about it? Cold showers?"
"And I blew stuff up a lot."
Al cocked his head to one side, considering. "That actually makes a lot of sense now. Okay. Yeah." He nodded, as if Ed had just explained a particularly convoluted bit of math to him, and it had all finally clicked.
Then he thought further. "What about sex?"
Ed dug his fingers into the dirt. Shoulda seen that one coming. He tried looking at the question from one angle, then another. Al crossed his arms like he had all the time in the world. It was distracting.
"You wanna spar?" he finally asked.
Al weighed him up in a long stare. "Let me guess. You thought about it, and went out and picked fights instead."
"Well you were there, what the hell else was I gonna do?" Ed huffed and glared, and Al ignored it with the annoying ease of long practice.
"You know, in retrospect, that's a little screwed up."
Ed was all set to answer that in retrospect, their whole lives had been monumentally screwed up. But then he looked up and saw his brother, his messy thatch of brown hair, and persistent frown of a terrier worrying a bit of rag in its teeth, and this was his brother, whole, not a worrisome hollow suit of armor anymore.
And maybe for the first time it struck him, really sunk in deep, that those days were over. They were free now, to do anything at all they wanted. It was like a seven-hundred pound oxcart had finally rolled off his shoulders, and Ed thought he might float right off the ground. A giggle bubbled up out of him, and then another, and then suddenly he was on his back in the grass, laughing himself hoarse.
Al watched him with a raised eyebrow and a faint grin. "Somehow I don't think I'm going to get anything useful out of you."
Ed rolled on his side, holding his ribs and gasping. Six years of cold showers, belligerence, and wanton reconstruction of public property, because he couldn't get laid and god, it was par for the course really. But none of that shit, none of it owned him anymore, and Ed laughed until he about choked, just because he could.
It took about a day for him to realize that Al had opened up an interesting can of worms, actually.
*****