[Fic] Drabble Post #3 - Various Pairings, Various Ratings
All righty, heerodiscarded, hieronymousb, and elfinragdoll, you're up!
What did I learn from these three? I really need to work on ending things as strongly as they start. These endings are not my favorites. Then again, they're not supposed to be masterpieces, NOW ARE THEY.
Title: This Isn't What He Meant When He Said "Let's Study Frictional Force Tonight"
For: heerodiscarded
Prompt: First-time centric
Pairing: Hei/Ed
Rating: hard R
Word Count: 923
Note: Please excuse me while I write the most indulgent Hei/Ed first time EVAR. Schmoopy fluffy fluff fluff, like, I'm pretty sure Ed's bordering on OOC here for the pure fluff factor.
Alfons is sitting in front of him on the desk, his legs spread to accomodate the way Ed is sandwiched between them. Ed's face is pressed against his chest and he can hear the dull thud of his heartbeat, can feel it against his cheek. Alfons smells like paper and ink today, books, dust, soap, starch, and cedar like the inside of his dresser, and Ed can't breathe in enough of it. His hands are on Ed's back, warm through Ed's own shirt and hitching on the strap of his arm a little bit, but mostly smooth and pulling him closer in.
Ed lifts his face up and Alfons looks into him, and Ed could be thinking about how blue his eyes are but he isn't. He's thinking about how Alfons is leaning in and how to angle his face right so that they don't bump noses; should he breathe in first or should he wait until that rolling feeling surges down into the pit of his stomach? He's trying to decide if he should be ready to use his tongue or not and wondering if he's brushed his teeth recently enough for this.
It all comes together okay, though. Alfons's mouth tastes sweet. It's not sweet like sugar; it's a different kind of sweet, one that he could never describe and it would probably come out sounding gross and ridiculous if he tried. The taste of another person's saliva is not something you talk about, but it's what he knows right now and he wants it; he gets lost in it.
He breathes in through his nose because there's that rolling feeling; the breath wants to be sharp but it comes in languidly, the sound of air rushing past Alfons's cheek loud in his ear. He shifts because he wants to wriggle around with it, and he ends up pressing himself closer into Alfons. It feels like those experiments with film he's seen, the slow-motion ones where there's an explosion and everything looks like it collapses inward before it blows outward; that's what it feels like, collapsing into his stomach and then rushing down his arm and down his legs and out. He rubs up against Alfons in a desperate way that would have seemed improbable and would have terrified him even fifteen minutes ago. Alfons's erection presses hard against his crotch, tantalizing close to his own, and then he shifts a little and there holy fuck.
All he can think about is how good skin would feel against that instead of the coarse fabric of his clothes, and he's pressing his forehead against Alfons's, they are both breathing long and slow and shallow through their mouths. It's some unspoken not-quite-rhythm of trying to stay calm, but Ed's frantic fumbling with buckles and buttons belies him, and Alfons doesn't stop him and he pulls their shirts up out of the way and there, oh god, there is skin skin skin, his and Alfons's against each other, and Ed surges into him and plants his arms on the desk just behind Alfons, skidding on papers there, and Alfons scoots forward and oh god there is skin and hair and friction and Ed almost can't breathe anymore now, half panic and fear and half relief and disbelief that he is really doing this. He remembers to exhale and it comes out on a tremble.
Ed has never done this before and he doesn't know if Alfons has either. He hopes not because he doesn't want to do something wrong or stupid. His breath comes in shorter pants now, skin on skin, rubbing arrhythmically together. He swallows hard and tilts his chin forward, rolls his forehead down Alfons's so their mouths meet again, because that is the only way he thinks they can get closer right now and that is the only thing he wants.
His tongue slides against Alfons's and somehow it all comes together, a rhythm with their mouths and a rhythm with their hips, little sounds coming out mostly through their noses and Ed wants to whine, just whine at the way this feels, and he doesn't want it to be over but he can't wait to get there, skin skin skin rubbing and then Alfons brings one hand down in between them and wraps it around both of them and pulls.
It isn't gentle, it's eager and almost too hard and somehow they keep that rhythm up even with his hand in the equation now and just the sheer oh my god of it makes Ed tighten up and tighten in and come, his arms flying up to Alfons's shoulders, gripping tightly to keep his knees from buckling. He turns his head to one side for a few breaths, breaths being the only increments of time that are important right now. He sags against Alfons; this is too good and too much and he can't look and now it's over for him.
Alfons buries his face in Ed's neck, choking out a sound, breathing in sharply, and then it's over for both of them, sticky, wet, hot and sweaty; it doesn't matter. Ed turns his head forward to look up into Alfons's face again and there is light in his eyes and color in his cheeks and Ed pulls him in and kisses him, hard harder hardest. He wants to say something, but there aren't any words for this.
"Wow," Alfons breathes against his mouth, "I never -" and then he doesn't seem to have any more words either.
Title: We've Been Struck Down
For: hieronymousb
Prompt: PWP; also she later asked me if I could include a mirror. Why yes, yes I can!
Pairing: Ed/Envy
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 596
Note: Erm, loosely set in my dear LiveWife's Waste Land AU. She said as porny as possible, though, so there ain't even a setting here. :D It would have been longer if I had bothered to set it up.
Ed reaches forward, grabs Envy by the hair, not to pull him closer but to distance himself. To hold Envy's head against the ground, away from those sharp teeth and that fucking mouth that never shuts up. Envy is a whirling mess of frenetic energy, struggling against him and struggling toward him, cursing and hateful and spitting out the same old tired epithets that Ed is so weary of hearing. They don't even mean anything anymore; violent endearments.
He's tired of fighting Envy, especially when it comes to this and the little bastard wants it but he fights every moment of it. Ed hates liars and he hates Envy and he's still going to fuck him, so help him, because they've done it before.
It's not a good enough reason and he knows it, but what is a good enough reason?
Envy's already naked. He has no modesty, no sense of decency. Envy's tearing at his pants for him, he's trying to raise his head to see but Ed won't let him. If Envy wants this to be difficult, then so be it. Ed can be difficult too.
Envy rakes at buttons, yanks and Ed's cock springs free into cool air and it's a hissing, raw relief that the obstacle of clothing is out of the way. He lets go of Envy's hair before he realizes it.
There's a mirror in front of them, a grimy thing covered in filth and reflecting no details, only outlines, and he looks at that instead while Envy scrambles up to him, look at me, look at me you little fuck and claws his hands into Ed's hair, down his back, roughly over his stomach and then takes Ed's cock in one hand, plunges his mouth down on it and swirls the hotness of his mouth around it. Ed gasps at the abruptness of it and watches the plane of Envy's back, the curve of his ass in the mirror, all of it whiter than skin should be and then Envy's up and on Ed, no preparation; slides down painfully onto Ed's cock with a noise that can't possibly be pleasure.
Ed grunts and ducks his head into Envy's shoulder despite himself, refuses to make the sound that wants to rip out of his chest. Envy reaches a hand up, grabs him roughly by the chin, bites his upper lip - fuck that hurts - and then grazes teeth against his so hard that it grinds while he starts moving up and down on Ed with a furious intensity that has Ed's lungs clutching for air, inhalations that are choked off and won't come the way they're supposed to.
He thrusts back, more out of an attempt to get a rhythm going so he can breathe again. Envy has no regard for anything but himself, lost and eyes closed, rocking up and down on Ed like it's a race to get to the end with one hand on his own cock, working it frantically. Envy comes with a wail, and it is too hot and too tight and too close for Ed. He lashes out with his hand, seizes Envy's shoulder, glances at the mirror wildly and watches while he pushes him down, hard, comes and comes and there's nothing left except Envy cursing at him, smearing come over his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and licking them with a grin that makes Ed shudder.
"You like this," Envy says forcefully.
"No," Ed pants. "You're the one who likes it this way."
Envy throws his head back and laughs.
Title: Bring Me Home Before Daylight
For: elfinragdoll
Prompt: Sex in a public place
Pairing: Hei/Al
Rating: hard R
Word Count: 625
Note: Dude, do you know how hard it is to find a public setting that Hei and Al - either one of them, but particularly together - would be willing to have sex in? So I advanced them in years. I think maybe Roy could talk Al into it, but he could talk painted-on panties off a mannequin, so that doesn't really count. Yeah, I know next to nothing about trains so I hope this isn't completely historically inaccurate.
The train ride to Paris is a long one and they've booked an overnight trip. Al is excited for a number of reasons. They've finally found sponsorship for the project they've been working on ever since Al got here four years ago and Ed will be meeting them at the station. Ed's been in Paris for two months himself, hammering out the last of the details.
Alfons sits with his head pressed against the window, tired just from the trip to the train station, breathing shallowly. Al slides in close and threads his fingers through Alfons's pale hand. His fingers are cold, trembling a little bit, and Al rests his head on Alfons's shoulder.
"It won't be long," he says reassuringly, and Alfons nods against the glass and closes his eyes.
The sun sets in front of them and the car grows dusky; the attendant appears to convert their seats for the night and Al merely shakes his head at him, because Alfons is asleep. He eases one of the pillows under Alfons's head and covers them both with a blanket.
Al can sleep sitting up when he has to; it's a small price to pay. He's healthy and younger, physically if not mentally, and Alfons has been ill for a long time and has already cheated death once. He keeps getting weaker, and Ed and Al are at a loss to help him. Al grips his hand more tightly, boldly wraps his other arm around Alfons under the blanket, and tries to sleep.
He wakes up with Alfons nuzzling at his ear insistently, mouthing at the hollow underneath and whispering to him in German.
"There are too many people here," Al whispers back, horrified.
"They're all asleep." Alfons gives him a slow smile, and Al looks around. He's right, but he can still see heads directly in their line of vision. There's some movement he can hear further down the car, but it's mostly still except for the sound of the train, and Alfons is too tired for this more often than not, so Al lets his mouth quirk up slyly against Alfons's and inches a hand down Alfons's pants to take his cock. Alfons has a surprisingly dirty mouth when he wants to, and his barely breathed suggestions have Al panting and achingly hard in a matter of minutes.
"Shh," says Alfons against his mouth, sliding his lips up against his ear, "the others will hear us."
Al nods and swallows. Alfons reaches over to grab the satchel they've carried on with them and rummages around, and after a moment Al realizes what his intent is. His eyes widen. "We can't - we can't, Alfons, not here."
But Alfons grins back at him, and they can and they do, under the blanket, trying to stay quiet, with the sounds of a dozen people sleeping around them, almost matching the rhythm of the train. They have to pause once and feign sleep when the attendant makes his rounds, Alfons gripping Al's hips so tightly that it hurts and Al nearly erupting in laughter with the absurdity of the situation, but the man doesn't give them a second glance.
Afterward Al curls up into Alfons. "Go back to sleep," he murmurs, "You need to save your strength for the presentation."
Alfons nods against his neck and then shifts so that he is leaned up against the window again, pulling Al over against him, and it strikes Al that Alfons doesn't argue with comments like that anymore. Moonlight washes over him and makes him look silver all over. Al looks up at him for a while and watches him drift back off. He threads their fingers together again under the blanket and thinks of Paris.
