FMA Ed/Hei Fic: Gentle Hands
FANDOM: Fullmetal Alchemist
TITLE: Gentle Hands
AUTHOR: harmonyopc
PAIRING: Edward/Alfons Heiderich
RATING: R for some sexuality
WORD COUNT: 1,591
WARNINGS: None, unless you count fluff ;)
SUMMARY: “I am still catching up to you on the rockets, but I can at least fix this.”
This was written for the first kinkmeme.
OAN: Bonus points to anyone who spots the Tool reference in this fic! ;)
“You all right, Alfons?” Amber eyes turned from the book he’d been reading to regard the pale, peaked form of his roommate, still lingering in the doorway.
The blue-eyed boy stifled his cough as best he could, straightening his back. He dropped his bag of books and papers on the floor and shuffled over to the small couch. “It’s nothing. Just really cold out today.” He suppressed the cough again, breathing shallowly through his nose. Down. Down. Just go down … please.
“Well … if you’re sure.” Edward’s eyes didn’t return to his book, however, but lingered on Alfons’ frail-looking form. He could see that the boy was trying not to cough, and he didn’t understand why; but that was okay. Alfons must have his reasons. It was impossible not to watch him struggle, though, and not care, not feel something. Not do something…
“Here - I’ll help.” Laying the book aside, he jumped up and grabbed the sleeves of the other blonde’s heavy winter coat and tugged. Alfons slid out of the coat and collapsed stiffly onto the couch. Edward slung the garment onto an empty peg on the coat-rack, then started in on the hat and scarf.
“Really - Edward - I can handle it,” Alfons grinned, trying not to laugh lest he start coughing again. He would never understand where Edward got his energy. As much as the man loved to sit and read, once he got moving he was unstoppable. Edward yanked Alfons up from his precarious seat and spun him around like a top, unwinding the scarf in the process, then just as quickly caught Alfons by the shoulders, stopping the gyration. Alfons was reminded of the more vigorous type of popular dancing, the gentlemen sending their ladies whirling away, then pulling them back into their arms, only to twirl them out again…
Edward grinned as if he knew exactly what Alfons was thinking. He gave the other boy’s shoulders a firm squeeze, then stopped. A frown clouded his face. “Alfons … what do they have you working on over there?”
“Huh?” Alfons gazed down - only slightly down - at the other boy, then blinked. “I don’t understand?”
“I mean, when I go with you to the warehouse, what you do does not look strenuous,” Edward continued. “But you are as tense as a stray cat. Even with one hand being a prosthetic, I can feel it!”
“You told me I needed to get stronger,” Alfons said defensively, trying to pull away.
“Yes, but stronger does not mean more tense,” Edward laughed. “When it is not doing work, the body should relax.”
Alfons stared into the golden eyes and smiled in spite of himself. Edward’s smile was so open, so unafraid. When he was happy, his eyes rivaled the sun; his hair was as bright as the candles he lit to read by. Alfons was blonde as well, but a paler, less rich-golden shade; he felt so washed-out compared to Edward. He recalled with affection the uncertain, awkward foreigner he’d first met - how different from the bold, confident young man who stood before him now! Edward’s genius had quickly been apparent and continued to amaze Alfons. Any son of Professor Hohenheim was sure to be brilliant, of course, but even so… he remembered how swiftly Edward had picked up the new language. Even if his word choice was still sometimes a bit awkward, he could make himself be understood.
Edward balled up Alfons’ scarf and hat in one hand and tossed them in the general direction of the coat-rack. “Come on,” he ordered playfully, still laughing. “I am still catching up to you on the rockets, but I can at least fix this.”
What he meant by “this” was quickly in evidence. Ed threw himself backward on the couch, dragging Alfons down onto him. For a few moments there was nothing but giggling and shifting about and squirming and “Hey, cut that out” and “Hold on - just let me get my other foot - there we go” and “Move back some more, will you?” Then the two of them were snuggled on the small, roughly-upholstered couch, with Alfons reclining back in Edward’s arms. He sighed. Never had he felt as safe, as secure, as he did when Edward was holding him.
“Are you warm enough?” Edward asked. He felt the usual protectiveness rise up and assert itself, for this beautiful, frail, amazingly talented young man who was equal parts strange and familiar, who didn’t even speak his language but whose face had made Edward’s heart stop at their first meeting. “What are you doing here?” He had almost asked. But before he got the question out, he already knew that this was not Al. The stranger’s eyes were the wrong color, more blue than grey; and those eyes expressed the curiosity of first-meeting, not the unrestrained joy of reunion. Alfons was truly a part of this strange world, not a marooned fellow traveler like Ed.
Alfons glanced back at Edward, lips quirked in a smile. In the candlelight his lashes were gilded, and his eyes by contrast looked darkly, intensely blue. “I’m fine, Edward,” he replied. “No one could be cold next to you.”
Ed put a hand under the other man’s chin and tilted his head back a little more. He kissed Alfons softly, but so intensely that Alfons’ eyes flew wide open, then closed in pure sensuous pleasure. When Ed finally drew back, he was pleased at the rosy flush in the short-haired man’s pale cheeks. “Now you’re warm,” he murmured. Alfons could only grin.
Edward leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You work hard, and coming from me, that’s saying something.” Alfons shivered in response. “Lay back and let me show you another way,” Ed breathed softly.
Obediently, Alfons relaxed again into Edward’s embrace, his back on Ed’s chest, his head draped over the other blonde’s shoulder. Impulsively he reached up to undo the cord that held Edward’s hair in place. He inhaled the sweet muskiness of Edward’s scent, losing himself in the glory of that golden hair, burying his face in it. He could understand why Ed would want to keep it tied, but oh, mein Gott, it was beautiful … Then he felt Edward’s hands moving up to the collar of his shirt, and he sighed and lay still again.
Edward undid Alfons’ shirt-buttons and slid off the suspenders with casual ease. Alfons wondered how he could be so dexterous with a prosthetic arm, and then Edward’s hands were warm on his skin and he stopped thinking, surrendering completely to the other’s touch.
Edward gripped Alfons’ shoulders firmly and began to knead. A moan escaped Alfons’ lips - it felt so good, but it hurt. Edward was paying attention to his reactions, though, and decreased his pressure. Alfons was amazed, again, at the other man’s effortless strength. He could break me in two without even trying, he thought dazedly. Edward’s hands travelled down Alfons’ back, pressing, rubbing, working out the knots and kinks that he had acquired throughout the day - hell, probably a lot more than a day, he admitted to himself. Ed gently pushed Alfons’s upper body forward as his hands travelled lower, lower … before he knew it, Alfons was bent almost double, Ed’s knuckles were rubbing slow circles on his lower back, and he felt like he could cry from the release of tension. Alfons brought his arms forward, circling them around his knees, and only then was he aware of a slight chill in the air. He shivered, and instantly the human furnace at his back leaned forward and wrapped its hot, muscular warmth around him. The bliss was unbelievable. Edward’s hands made their way down from his collarbone, massaging his wiry chest. He paused only briefly to tease the nipples - which made Alfons writhe and gasp - before moving down, down to his stomach, down …
Alfons was acutely aware of the throbbing in his groin. There was, he thought wryly, at least one place he was not going to relax while Ed was touching him like this. Edward carefully unbuttoned his trousers and somehow simultaneously lifted Alfons and slid the garment off at the same time. Instead of continuing to touch him, however, Edward paused.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” His voice was a golden purr in Alfons’ ear. “Don’t move an inch.” He untangled himself from the thinner man and hopped off the couch. Alfons heard footsteps into the bedchamber and back out, and before Ed’s body warmth had left the space, he was back, wrapping around Alfons again and throwing a blanket over them.
Alfons felt himself pulled backward, close to Edward, and Edward’s hands were reaching for his hips, his thighs ... He moaned softly, then louder as Edward’s firm pressure became a light caress and moved back upward. He felt his long underwear being pulled down; he had a vague thought that he should help, but he was so warm and comfortable, and his body felt so very heavy…
And then, once again, all thought left his head. Edward’s divine hands were on him, stroking and caressing, moving in a rhythm familiar to them both. Edward drank in the other man’s shuddering groans, savoring each sound from Alfons’ lips.
Almost before he knew what was happening, Alfons cried out in complete release and collapsed bonelessly backward into Edward’s embrace.
Still panting, Alfons turned his head and regarded Edward through sleepy blue eyes. “Ed … you… you’re amazing, do you know that?”
Edward stroked his hair and smiled. “Hush, Alfons. There will be time enough for talking later.”
“But … but I didn’t …” Alfons started.
“Later,” Ed replied with a touch of firmness. “I am all right now. Sometimes it’s enough to see you so happy.”
With that, Alfons surrendered to the land of dreams..
TITLE: Gentle Hands
AUTHOR: harmonyopc
PAIRING: Edward/Alfons Heiderich
RATING: R for some sexuality
WORD COUNT: 1,591
WARNINGS: None, unless you count fluff ;)
SUMMARY: “I am still catching up to you on the rockets, but I can at least fix this.”
This was written for the first kinkmeme.
OAN: Bonus points to anyone who spots the Tool reference in this fic! ;)
“You all right, Alfons?” Amber eyes turned from the book he’d been reading to regard the pale, peaked form of his roommate, still lingering in the doorway.
The blue-eyed boy stifled his cough as best he could, straightening his back. He dropped his bag of books and papers on the floor and shuffled over to the small couch. “It’s nothing. Just really cold out today.” He suppressed the cough again, breathing shallowly through his nose. Down. Down. Just go down … please.
“Well … if you’re sure.” Edward’s eyes didn’t return to his book, however, but lingered on Alfons’ frail-looking form. He could see that the boy was trying not to cough, and he didn’t understand why; but that was okay. Alfons must have his reasons. It was impossible not to watch him struggle, though, and not care, not feel something. Not do something…
“Here - I’ll help.” Laying the book aside, he jumped up and grabbed the sleeves of the other blonde’s heavy winter coat and tugged. Alfons slid out of the coat and collapsed stiffly onto the couch. Edward slung the garment onto an empty peg on the coat-rack, then started in on the hat and scarf.
“Really - Edward - I can handle it,” Alfons grinned, trying not to laugh lest he start coughing again. He would never understand where Edward got his energy. As much as the man loved to sit and read, once he got moving he was unstoppable. Edward yanked Alfons up from his precarious seat and spun him around like a top, unwinding the scarf in the process, then just as quickly caught Alfons by the shoulders, stopping the gyration. Alfons was reminded of the more vigorous type of popular dancing, the gentlemen sending their ladies whirling away, then pulling them back into their arms, only to twirl them out again…
Edward grinned as if he knew exactly what Alfons was thinking. He gave the other boy’s shoulders a firm squeeze, then stopped. A frown clouded his face. “Alfons … what do they have you working on over there?”
“Huh?” Alfons gazed down - only slightly down - at the other boy, then blinked. “I don’t understand?”
“I mean, when I go with you to the warehouse, what you do does not look strenuous,” Edward continued. “But you are as tense as a stray cat. Even with one hand being a prosthetic, I can feel it!”
“You told me I needed to get stronger,” Alfons said defensively, trying to pull away.
“Yes, but stronger does not mean more tense,” Edward laughed. “When it is not doing work, the body should relax.”
Alfons stared into the golden eyes and smiled in spite of himself. Edward’s smile was so open, so unafraid. When he was happy, his eyes rivaled the sun; his hair was as bright as the candles he lit to read by. Alfons was blonde as well, but a paler, less rich-golden shade; he felt so washed-out compared to Edward. He recalled with affection the uncertain, awkward foreigner he’d first met - how different from the bold, confident young man who stood before him now! Edward’s genius had quickly been apparent and continued to amaze Alfons. Any son of Professor Hohenheim was sure to be brilliant, of course, but even so… he remembered how swiftly Edward had picked up the new language. Even if his word choice was still sometimes a bit awkward, he could make himself be understood.
Edward balled up Alfons’ scarf and hat in one hand and tossed them in the general direction of the coat-rack. “Come on,” he ordered playfully, still laughing. “I am still catching up to you on the rockets, but I can at least fix this.”
What he meant by “this” was quickly in evidence. Ed threw himself backward on the couch, dragging Alfons down onto him. For a few moments there was nothing but giggling and shifting about and squirming and “Hey, cut that out” and “Hold on - just let me get my other foot - there we go” and “Move back some more, will you?” Then the two of them were snuggled on the small, roughly-upholstered couch, with Alfons reclining back in Edward’s arms. He sighed. Never had he felt as safe, as secure, as he did when Edward was holding him.
“Are you warm enough?” Edward asked. He felt the usual protectiveness rise up and assert itself, for this beautiful, frail, amazingly talented young man who was equal parts strange and familiar, who didn’t even speak his language but whose face had made Edward’s heart stop at their first meeting. “What are you doing here?” He had almost asked. But before he got the question out, he already knew that this was not Al. The stranger’s eyes were the wrong color, more blue than grey; and those eyes expressed the curiosity of first-meeting, not the unrestrained joy of reunion. Alfons was truly a part of this strange world, not a marooned fellow traveler like Ed.
Alfons glanced back at Edward, lips quirked in a smile. In the candlelight his lashes were gilded, and his eyes by contrast looked darkly, intensely blue. “I’m fine, Edward,” he replied. “No one could be cold next to you.”
Ed put a hand under the other man’s chin and tilted his head back a little more. He kissed Alfons softly, but so intensely that Alfons’ eyes flew wide open, then closed in pure sensuous pleasure. When Ed finally drew back, he was pleased at the rosy flush in the short-haired man’s pale cheeks. “Now you’re warm,” he murmured. Alfons could only grin.
Edward leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “You work hard, and coming from me, that’s saying something.” Alfons shivered in response. “Lay back and let me show you another way,” Ed breathed softly.
Obediently, Alfons relaxed again into Edward’s embrace, his back on Ed’s chest, his head draped over the other blonde’s shoulder. Impulsively he reached up to undo the cord that held Edward’s hair in place. He inhaled the sweet muskiness of Edward’s scent, losing himself in the glory of that golden hair, burying his face in it. He could understand why Ed would want to keep it tied, but oh, mein Gott, it was beautiful … Then he felt Edward’s hands moving up to the collar of his shirt, and he sighed and lay still again.
Edward undid Alfons’ shirt-buttons and slid off the suspenders with casual ease. Alfons wondered how he could be so dexterous with a prosthetic arm, and then Edward’s hands were warm on his skin and he stopped thinking, surrendering completely to the other’s touch.
Edward gripped Alfons’ shoulders firmly and began to knead. A moan escaped Alfons’ lips - it felt so good, but it hurt. Edward was paying attention to his reactions, though, and decreased his pressure. Alfons was amazed, again, at the other man’s effortless strength. He could break me in two without even trying, he thought dazedly. Edward’s hands travelled down Alfons’ back, pressing, rubbing, working out the knots and kinks that he had acquired throughout the day - hell, probably a lot more than a day, he admitted to himself. Ed gently pushed Alfons’s upper body forward as his hands travelled lower, lower … before he knew it, Alfons was bent almost double, Ed’s knuckles were rubbing slow circles on his lower back, and he felt like he could cry from the release of tension. Alfons brought his arms forward, circling them around his knees, and only then was he aware of a slight chill in the air. He shivered, and instantly the human furnace at his back leaned forward and wrapped its hot, muscular warmth around him. The bliss was unbelievable. Edward’s hands made their way down from his collarbone, massaging his wiry chest. He paused only briefly to tease the nipples - which made Alfons writhe and gasp - before moving down, down to his stomach, down …
Alfons was acutely aware of the throbbing in his groin. There was, he thought wryly, at least one place he was not going to relax while Ed was touching him like this. Edward carefully unbuttoned his trousers and somehow simultaneously lifted Alfons and slid the garment off at the same time. Instead of continuing to touch him, however, Edward paused.
“I’ll be right back, okay?” His voice was a golden purr in Alfons’ ear. “Don’t move an inch.” He untangled himself from the thinner man and hopped off the couch. Alfons heard footsteps into the bedchamber and back out, and before Ed’s body warmth had left the space, he was back, wrapping around Alfons again and throwing a blanket over them.
Alfons felt himself pulled backward, close to Edward, and Edward’s hands were reaching for his hips, his thighs ... He moaned softly, then louder as Edward’s firm pressure became a light caress and moved back upward. He felt his long underwear being pulled down; he had a vague thought that he should help, but he was so warm and comfortable, and his body felt so very heavy…
And then, once again, all thought left his head. Edward’s divine hands were on him, stroking and caressing, moving in a rhythm familiar to them both. Edward drank in the other man’s shuddering groans, savoring each sound from Alfons’ lips.
Almost before he knew what was happening, Alfons cried out in complete release and collapsed bonelessly backward into Edward’s embrace.
Still panting, Alfons turned his head and regarded Edward through sleepy blue eyes. “Ed … you… you’re amazing, do you know that?”
Edward stroked his hair and smiled. “Hush, Alfons. There will be time enough for talking later.”
“But … but I didn’t …” Alfons started.
“Later,” Ed replied with a touch of firmness. “I am all right now. Sometimes it’s enough to see you so happy.”
With that, Alfons surrendered to the land of dreams..