30_Lemons Challenge #10: "Blind Obedience," Danny/Al, NC-17
Several points of interest here:
a) Beware my newfound fetish of Danny with a gun, trained to fight and kill, WTF.
b) All of the violence in this fic can be attributed to Barnes & Noble for not delivering my fucking Harry Potter book on time, when I had one-ONE-fucking day to read it before my students got here.
c) If you chat with me often and think you recognize something in here that we've discussed at some point? Yeah, that's probably where it came from. *cough*
d) This satisfies the tenth prompt on 30_lemons, "Boot Camp." Did I cheat? Um ... yeah. Of course.
e) And lastly, it's for pockygirl, from whom I stole pie. ^_~
If you didn't find any of that to be particularly of interest, then read the fic instead. Maybe you'll like it better.
Blind Obedience
by Mistr3ss Quickly
As long as he can remember, Sergeant Danny Broche has been trained.
Trained to wipe his feet when he comes into the house. Trained to say may I be excused? before leaving the dinner table. Trained to brush his teeth and say his prayers at bedtime, even after he grew old enough to put himself to bed.
At the age of eighteen, Danny joined the Military, and the training continued.
By the time Alphonse Elric met Danny, technically their second introduction, Sergeant Broche was trained so well, he barely seemed to think for himself. He could shine a pair of boots in his sleep. He could aim a gun and pull the trigger without hesitation. He could give and receive messages, never once stopping to consider the meaning behind the words themselves.
At first, Al hated him. Hated the blind obedience, the mindless cooperation. Hated the notion that Sergeant Broche followed him everywhere and looked after him and guarded him simply because someone had ordered him to. Hated the thought that, if ordered to do so, Sergeant Broche would hand him over, would leave him at the mercy of the very men and women who betrayed Edward, scared Edward so far into hiding that even Al couldn't find him.
~*~*~*~
First chance he got, Al tried to escape. Tried to sneak away from the soldier who snapped into a sharp salute whenever anyone in uniform walked into the room, the soldier who seemed always to fall into step with him when they walked, as though marching alongside another soldier instead of a civilian.
Sergeant Broche discovered him out in the street, breathing hard and limping a little where he'd lost his footing and fallen, trying to slip out the window of their dorm room. Blinked a few times and said Al's name like a question, green eyes gone big and dark in the shadows of the alley.
"You okay, Alphonse?" he said, when Al responded, confirming that he was, indeed, who Sergeant Broche had guessed him to be.
"No, I'm not okay," Al had answered. "I was running away, but now you've gone and ruined it."
He was surprised when Sergeant Broche laughed, tightly-squared shoulders slumping. Even more surprised when Sergeant Broche said, "Good, I'm glad that's all it is. You had me scared."
And then, when Sergeant Broche took him out of the dorm block, down to the diner three blocks away that served blueberry pie twenty-four hours a day, Al stopped being surprised and settled for being downright curious.
"Isn't this against the rules?" he said, around a mouthful of pie.
Sergeant Broche shrugged. "You looked like you could use a break in routine."
"Won't you get into trouble, if you get caught?"
Another shrug. Sergeant Broche took a bite of his own slice of pie, chased it with a sip of his coffee. "Sometimes it's worth it to bend the rules a little," he said. "Just every once in awhile."
~*~*~*~
After that, Al was wary of his bodyguard. Cautious around the man where, before, he'd simply been sullen, and suddenly desperately curious about Sergeant Broche, about the man's obedient nature.
"Why do you wear that, even when we're not in Central?" he said, when Sergeant Broche wore full uniform on one of their excursions together, sweltering under the hot Xenotime sun. "You look like you're melting."
Sergeant Broche shrugged. "It's expected that I'll dress in uniform while on duty," he said. "Which I am, when I travel with you."
"But nobody here is in the Military," said Al. "They aren't going to care if you're in uniform or not."
"No," said Sergeant Broche. "But you'll know and I'll know, and that's good enough for me."
Al frowned up at him. "I'm not going to tell on you, you know," he said, "if you want to wear normal clothes."
Sergeant Broche laughed. "I'm sure you wouldn't," he said.
"Then what's stopping you?"
Another shrug. "It's just the rules, Al," said Sergeant Broche. "I wear my uniform when I'm on duty because I don't mind wearing my uniform when I'm on duty. No reason not to wear it, where someone had a good reason for making the rule that I should wear it. Make sense?"
Al shook his head. "No," he said.
Sergeant Broche sighed, footsteps slowing gradually enough that Al noticed and stopped walking, head cocked in curiosity.
"Why do you wear your brother's coat everywhere, Al?" he asked, quietly. "Why not wear short sleeves and cotton pants like the other boys in Xenotime wear? It'd be cooler."
Al bristled. "You know why I dress like this, Danny," he growled. "Don't be an idiot."
"Just a comparison, Al," said Sergeant Broche.
"Well that's stupid, Danny," said Al. "I don't wear my brother's coat because anyone told me to. That's the difference. I can think for myself."
"I know you can, Al," said Sergeant Broche. "Calm down, please. I wasn't trying to upset you."
Al snorted and turned, marching off once again down the road towards the inn where he and his bodyguard were staying. A pace behind, he could hear his bodyguard's footsteps, Sergeant Broche following him, obedient as ever. But Sergeant Broche didn't speak to him, wisely keeping the silence between them until they'd reached their room. He spoke Al's name, softly, hand raised a little to stop Al from entering the room first. Al treated him to a deep glare, but obediently stepped back, waiting impatiently for Sergeant Broche to unlock the door and enter first, gun drawn as he checked the room for any potential dangers lurking inside.
"Danny," said Al, after three long, tense minutes had passed.
"Yes, Al?"
"It's really bothering me, what you said," said Al. "I've got to know ... do you have any idea why I dress like this? It's not just for show, it's not just to get people's pity. It's-"
"To remind you where you've been," said Sergeant Broche, without turning around, hands busy hanging his uniform jacket neatly in the closet. "To remind you where you're going. To see to it that you don't forget, even if everyone else around you does."
Al stared at him, motionless. Watched as Sergeant Broche finished with his jacket and unholstered his gun, eyes downcast as he settled at the small table at the back of the room to clean it.
"Yeah," he said, eventually. "Yeah. That's right."
~*~*~*~
Scarcely a year later, Al found that he trusted his bodyguard, a fact that annoyed him to no end.
It was Sergeant Broche's fault, he decided. Sergeant Broche, who was so well trained to do whatever he was told to do, had trained him to be obedient, placid, and trusting.
And because of it, he was getting no closer to his goal. No closer to finding his older brother.
(Which wasn't quite true, and Al knew it, and that fact annoyed him, too. But all the same, it was easier to blame Sergeant Broche rather than blame himself or-heaven forbid-his brother, whom he'd come to idolize over the years he'd been searching for him, so Al did it, and secretly felt very guilty about the whole thing.)
So Al did the only logical thing. He decided to run away.
I'll wait until Danny's asleep, he thought, as he and his bodyguard left the mess hall and walked together to the Records Room, where Al had decided he needed to go that evening. Then I'll take Brother's coat and I'll leave ... have to take some food with me, but that's okay, Danny's got peanut butter and crackers in his closet for when my tummy hurts. Big dummy, he won't even notice I'm taking them. Well, I guess that's 'cause he got them for me, but-nevermind! I'll have to take my books, too ... take them in Danny's duffle, yeah ...
But then it was bedtime, and Sergeant Broche was yawning around an offer to comb Al's hair, perched on the edge of his bunk, the bunk Al slept in more often than his own. Al hesitated, but decided it wouldn't hurt to let Sergeant Broche comb his hair, insisting to himself that it would help keep up appearances, to prevent his bodyguard from suspecting anything unusual was going on.
Sergeant Broche combed his hair in long, soothing strokes, patiently working out all the snarls. He set the comb on the bedside table while Al wound his hair into a braid and tied it off, quick and sloppy, then he rose and switched out the light, returning to his own bunk without a word, even when Al curled around him, head tucked under his chin.
He rubbed his hand up and down Al's back when Al tensed, but didn't ask if Al was all right. Gentle and trusting, he pet Al until sleep claimed him, his hand slipping off of Al's shoulder when Al shrugged it away.
Al swore under his breath and reached for his bodyguard's hand, putting it back on his shoulder where it belonged.
Can't very well get away from him, like this, anyway he thought, grumpily. I'll just have to wait until tomorrow, and then I'll ... I'll ... mmm.
Sergeant Broche's body was warm against his own, even through their pajamas, the man's hard muscles oddly comforting, the rush of his breath, not quite a snore, familiar in a way few things were, in Al's life. Al made note in his sleep-muddled mind to be bothered by all of it, to find a way to uncondition his body to respond so eagerly to Sergeant Broche's.
Within three minutes, he was fast asleep. By the time he woke again, the mental note was long gone.
~*~*~*~
For all his careful planning and silent pep-talks, Al never did manage to run away from his bodyguard. Weeks after his decision to sneak away, he was still under Sergeant Broche's care, following Sergeant Broche's schedule.
His only consolation in the matter was that Sergeant Broche kept a good schedule, one that conveniently fit his own desires for order and hard work. Together, they were up at six o'clock in the morning. They ate breakfast in the mess hall at seven o'clock, then began research at eight o'clock. Traveling, when they decided to leave the City, always began at eight o'clock, too, because packing happened the night before any trip and the trains didn't run until 8:00. Then lunch at noon, dinner at six, and bedtime by midnight. Showers, packing, and-when Al could be talked into it-leisure activities, all took place between dinner and bedtime.
They moved in synch with each other. Lived their lives day in and day out without friction or conflict.
Which should have driven Al crazy, so far as Al could tell. It should have been maddening.
Only it wasn't.
The schedule gave him something to hide behind when he finally got close enough to the truth that finding his brother was no longer a lofty, nebulous goal. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary when he and his bodyguard took home a duffle full of books. No one thought anything of it when he and his bodyguard disappeared for a week on another trip to Lior.
And on the night that Al needed comfort because he was so close but not close enough, no one thought anything of Sergeant Broche hugging him, right in the middle of Central Library, because Al still looked young enough to be hugged and Sergeant Broche looked like the sort of fellow to hug people who needed it.
Nevermind that the hug later turned into a kiss, once Al had his bodyguard alone in the darkness of their dorm room. Nevermind that one kiss turned into two or three, each deeper and longer than the next until it was difficult to keep track of where one ended and the next began.
"Mmm, Danny," Al murmured, when Danny pressed him down onto the bed they'd been sharing for months and began nibbling his neck. "Isn't this a little-aah!-against the rules?"
"Yes," said Danny, the word muffled in the collar of Al's shirt.
Al grinned, teeth flashing white in the darkness of their room. "Won't you get into trouble for it, then?"
Danny nodded, groaning when Al snaked an arm around him and pulled him close, grinding up against him. "Yes," he whispered. "But sometimes it's worth it to bend the rules a little."
"Mmm," said Al. "Just every once in awhile."
~*~*~*~
Two years later, Sergeant Broche had become "Danny" to Al, and Al had become "sweetheart" to Danny, and Danny's tendency to be easily trained no longer bothered Al.
Quite the contrary, Al found it highly amusing, moderately useful, and-from time to time-just a little bit confusing.
Life was good, though, with Sergeant Danny Broche at his side. It was good to have someone to take orders and salute, someone whose politeness and obedience offset Al's tendency to sulk and bend the rules and keep secrets. It was good to have someone to talk to, someone who could be trusted to listen and nod and keep secrets, simply because he'd promised not to tell.
Therefore, when Danny received orders one Thursday afternoon to take Al to Meeting Room B in the large conference hall on the eastern side of the City for a meeting, the following day, Danny reacted with a sharp salute, and Al reacted by teasing him. His snickering quieted when he took the order from Danny and read it, replaced with a frown when he asked Danny what the meeting would be about and Danny didn't know.
"Looks pretty official though, sweetheart, pretty serious," said Danny, pulling Al's good suit out of the closet and hanging it on the foot of their bunkbeds. "Probably best to wear this, don't you think?"
Then he sat down to polish Al's shoes, as methodical and efficient as he was when he shined his boots. Al sat down beside him and watched him work.
"I can do that myself, Danny," he said. "If you want."
Danny shook his head and turned to kiss Al on the temple. He continued polishing until Al's shoes shone, then worked on his own, finishing after Al had fallen asleep, curled up in a ball on top of the blankets.
~*~*~*~
First thing in the morning, he walked Al to the meeting hall, just as he'd been instructed to do.
"They won't let me come in, sweetheart," he said, just outside the building, far enough away that there was little risk he'd be heard calling his charge by such an affectionate pet name. "But I'll be right outside, waiting for you. Shout if you need me."
Al gave him a severe look. "I will," he said. "Same goes for you."
Then he squeezed Danny's hand, hard, and marched into the Hall, the door closing with a heavy thud behind him before Danny realized the latter half of his lover's statement had been intended as a joke. He sighed and took his position outside the hall, standing at attention as he waited.
He didn't end up waiting long.
Thirty minutes after he'd said goodbye to his lover, the younger man came storming out, shoulders squared and face set in the deepest scowl Danny had ever seen on a person. He jogged the few steps it took to catch up to Al, then fell into step with him, wisely silent as they made their way back home.
Half a block from the dorms, Al stopped dead in his tracks.
"Danny," he said, turning and glaring up at the man. "If you knew, I want you to tell me right now. Be honest with me, I'll know if you're lying."
Danny blinked at him. "Knew what?" he said.
"Knew why I'd been summoned to a meeting," said Al. "Knew what they were going to tell me, in there. Did you or did you not know?"
Danny shook his head. "Nobody told me anything, Al," he said. "Must've been something bad, huh?"
Al swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it was."
His hands were clenched tightly in the fabric of his trousers, knuckles gone white. His eyes were shining, tears brimming up over the deep grey of his irises.
Danny reached for him, unsurprised when Al jerked away from him, reaching up angrily to swipe at the tears that tumbled down his cheeks. "Do you want to talk about it?" he said.
Al shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I don't want to talk about it."
That wasn't much of a surprise, either. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
"No," said Al. "There's-well yeah. Yeah, maybe."
Then he turned and took off again, marching faster than Danny could recall ever marching under a commanding officer's orders. Al didn't stop when they reached the road leading to the dorm block, instead leading his bodyguard right past the gate, up the hill and onwards, into the City proper. Danny followed him, obedient as ever, past the library, past the deli where he and Al often had lunch; past the hospital and the bookstore and the coffee shop that sold hot chocolate made from dark chocolate, which Al liked better than anything else.
The sun had risen high in the sky by the time they reached Central Gardens, Al's apparent goal. Sweating in his uniform, Danny was glad for the shade of the trees, the breeze whispering through the branches, cool on the back of his neck. He stopped when Al stopped, standing rigid at attention.
At the look his lover gave him, he had to resist saluting.
"Danny," said Al.
"Yeah?" said Danny.
"I want you to fight me," said Al. "And then, I want to go home and I want you to fuck me until I'm too tired and too sore to even consider doing or saying half the things I so desperately want to do and say right now."
Danny blinked at him. Al's eyes narrowed.
"Is there a problem with that, Sergeant?"
"Um," said Danny. "No. No, that's ... um ... yeah. I can do that."
"Good," said Al. He shrugged out of his suitcoat and tugged off his tie. "Then please. Attack me at your leisure."
Once again, Danny resisted the urge to salute, instead checking his gun to see that the safety was, indeed, on, then unbuttoning his jacket, bending set it on the grass beside Al's coat. He drew a deep breath and sunk into fighting stance, watching his lover's eyes.
Al stared back, all but snarling.
He parried the first two punches Danny aimed at him before throwing a punch of his own, which Danny caught and twisted, sending Al into a graceful twirl that broke him free of Danny's grip. Another set of punches and a kick, then Al's fist nicked Danny's side, hard enough to hurt.
"Point to you," said Danny, parrying another well-aimed punch.
Al growled at him in answer.
The next point went to Al-his foot hooking behind Danny's right knee, bringing Danny down-and the next, as well, before Danny's pride was wounded enough for him to really fight back. Then the fight turned into an all-out scuffle, with points muddled and fists flying, Al's good shirt streaked with grass-stains and mud, Danny's dress-shirt stained beyond repair.
Danny knee'd Al in the stomach, hard, and got a blow to the neck in return, hard enough that his vision briefly went black, his entire body protesting as he hit the ground, too disoriented to move.
"You win," he gasped, when he heard the grass beside his ear rustling under the toe of Al's shoe. "I'm done, you win."
Movement, and the touch of Al's hand on his chest. Danny opened his eyes and tried to give the younger man a reassuring smile.
"You win," he repeated.
Al's frown didn't budge. "Maybe," he said. "But you fought really well, Danny. I didn't know you could fight like that."
Danny laughed, which hurt, so he stopped. "Yeah," he said. "Learned that in boot camp."
"Huh," said Al. "Good to know. Can you get up?"
"Yeah," said Danny. He pushed himself up, struggling not to wince at the protests from his back, abs, ribs, and neck. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Al snorted and stuck out his hand. "Here," he said.
Danny took his hand. "Back to the dorms?" he said. "Or do you want to-"
"Of course back to the dorm, Danny," said Al. "I don't think getting arrested for public indecency would be very fun, do you?"
Danny blushed to his roots and fumbled with his uniform jacket, mumbling something about no that wouldn't be very fun and buttoning up the front of his jacket crookedly. Al sighed and reached for him, swiftly unbuttoning and rebuttoning the jacket properly.
"Come on," he said. "On the double."
That time, Danny saluted.
~*~*~*~
Al had glared fiercely at his bodyguard when Danny insisted on bathing, first thing upon their return to the dorms. After five minutes of bathing beside the man, however, watching him grow more and more aroused, even under the flow of cold water, Al's sulking lessened considerably, leaving behind only the bad mood he'd been in the moment he left the meeting hall as he followed Danny out of the showers, hair dripping down his chest.
"Now," he said, once they were safely locked away in their room, his towel rumpled on the floor where he'd let it drop. "I want you to fuck me, Danny."
He pushed Danny backwards until they'd reached the bunkbeds and shoved the man down, then stole his towel and tossed it to the foot of the bed, just to illustrate his point.
Danny gave a nervous little laugh and pulled Al into his lap, kissing him gently on the lips. "You're not hard yet, sweetheart," he said, gently, looking down between them to his erection, bullying Al's half-hard cock.
"Yeah?" said Al. "Well then it's a good thing you're going to fuck me, then isn't it?"
"Sweetheart ..."
"Danny."
Then the room spun, and Danny found himself staring up at the underside of Al's bunk, which Al'd not slept in for well over ten months. Al squirmed around a bit, stretching out to argue the tube of lubricant out of Danny's pillow, then settled himself over Danny's lap, Danny's cock rubbing in the warm cleft of his ass.
"I told you," he said, wetting two of his own fingers with lubricant and reaching back, behind himself, thighs tensing as he began fingering himself none-too-gently. "I want you to fuck me. Not think about what we're doing or how we're doing it, just do it. Haven't you learned by now that that's how sex should be, sometimes? Fast and raw and-Danny, what are you doing?"
Danny tightened his grip on Al's wrist, preventing movement of any kind. "What you told me to do, sweetheart," he said, gently. "I want to get you ready, since I'm going to ... um ... do you."
Al's eyes narrowed. He jerked his arm out of his lover's grasp, but obediently withdrew his fingers, twisting enough to grab a tissue from the bedside table.
"Fine," he said, wiping lube off his fingers.
"Good," said Danny. "Would you please turn around so I can see what I'm doing?"
Al rolled his eyes, but turned around, hands braced just below Danny's kneecaps for balance as the older man shifted to sit up. He moaned softly at the feel of Danny's fingers, bigger than his own and rougher with callouses from years of combat training, pushing into his body, twisting a little to spread the lube around.
"Faster, Danny," he said, after a minute, when Danny had done nothing but thrust two fingers in and out of him, gently stretching him and tickling his prostate. "Come on, this is supposed to wear me out."
Behind him, he could hear Danny fumbling with the lube, adding more to his fingers and mumbling an apology. His lover had, however, learned well over the years they'd been together that testing Al's patience when Al was upset already was a very bad idea, and so, for all his fumbling and mumbling, Danny did manage to get three fingers into Al without too much delay, pushing hard enough that Al moaned and shuddered, still and tense as Danny worked him.
"Dan~ny," he murmured, when Danny pulled his fingers out completely and began adding more lube to them.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Al wiggled backwards, rubbing himself against the slick head of Danny's erection. "Fuck me, Danny. Now."
Danny groaned and slipped an arm around Al's waist, pulling the younger man back for a wet, open-mouthed kiss as he slicked himself. "Raise up a little for me, sweetheart," he murmured, hand splayed across on Al's bare chest. "There, now ... aah, Al ..."
He rested his forehead on Al's shoulder, swallowing hard as Al lowered himself down, inch by inch, slowly working Danny's cock inside. His fingers twitched on Al's chest, hand stuttering against Al's sweat-sticky skin as he felt blindly for one of the younger man's nipples, his other arm stretched behind him, bracing him against the mattress. When Al's backside came to rest against his groin, ass clenching faintly around the entire length of his cock, Danny groaned and gave his lover's nipple one last squeeze, then moved his hand higher, across Al's smooth collarbone, up his throat and over his chin, coming to rest over Al's fluttering eyelids.
"Relax, sweetheart," he said, softly, nuzzling Al's ear affectionately, soothingly, when Al tensed up against him. "Trust me."
"Your hand's hurting my nose, move it higher," said Al. He shifted his hips a little, lifting and lowering himself a little on Danny's lap. "There. That's better."
Danny groaned. "Okay for me to move?"
Al growled and rocked his hips again, harder this time. "Only if you don't want me to do it for you," he said. "Come on, Danny, hurry aah!"
He yelped when Danny bucked under him again, hands outstretched blindly, groping for something to hold onto, his right hand smacking painfully against the wall by the bed. He pressed his palm against the wall for balance and relaxed his body back against Danny's, breathing harshly.
"Danny," he gasped. "This's weird ..."
Danny hesitated. "Want me to stop?"
"Hn-nhn," said Al, shaking his head as much as he could without dislodging Danny's hand from his eyes. "Good weird."
Tentatively, Danny thrust into him again, mouthing the shell of Al's ear. When Al answered him with a long, broken groan and began moving in counterpoint, free hand jerking himself off, Danny shuddered, confidence boosted enough that he closed his eyes and gave Al the fucking he'd been asking for.
In and in, fast and hard and not quite even enough for Al to match him perfectly, but good, all the same. Danny murmured his lover's name and chased the pleasure he felt pooling in his gut, orgasm approaching far too quickly, as always, but it hardly mattered. Al was making noise constantly, little whimpers and growls interrupted by a yelp each time Danny rubbed directly over his prostate, and the way he moved, writhing and bucking and shuddering ...
Danny tightened the arm wrapped around his lover and pulled down, pinning Al in his lap. Al squirmed and bucked, his attempts to free himself generating delicious friction up and down the length of Danny's cock. He whined and called Danny a bad name, then shivered and tightened up, quieting as he realized that his lover was coming in him.
"Danny," he said, stroking himself harder. "Oh Danny ... Danny ... Danny ..."
"Mmm," said Danny, panting through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He slid his hand down Al's chest and belly, brushing his fingers over Al's furiously stroking fist before dipping lower, cupping the younger man's balls up, tight against Al's body. "Come on, sweetheart," he murmured. "Come for me."
Al growled. "Pull out and finger me, Danny," he said. "Fuck me, make me come."
Danny's cock, softening inside Al's body, twitched. Danny swallowed hard and pushed himself up, folding his legs under him as Al rocked forward, ass in the air and legs spread, his asshole wet and glistening.
"You're so sexy, Al," he murmured gently, slipping his index finger carefully into Al's ass.
Al groaned and pushed his hips back, bumping Danny's hand. "Da~nny," he snarled. "C'mon, two fingers ... you just fucked me, I'm loose enough for you to be rough with me. Come on, Danny. Fuck me."
Danny blinked at him, then hurried to obey, thrusting his index and middle fingers into Al's body and moving them back and forth, just as fast as he'd been fucking the younger man, just moments before.
It didn't take Al long, after that. He buried his face in the towel lying rumpled at the foot of Danny's bed and moaned loudly, jerking himself hard enough that the bed squeaked in protest. When he came, he arched up and stilled, mouth open as though orgasm had taken him by surprise, his hand a blur until the first splatter of semen hit the bed, staining the dark blue of Danny's blanket.
"Oh," he murmured, once he'd finished, his hand slowing to coax the last dribble of come from the tip of his cock. "Oh Danny ... mmm."
Danny pulled his fingers free and helped Al sit up, stealing a kiss while Al groped blindly for the towel and began cleaning himself.
"I love you, Al," he said, softly.
Al kissed him back, nuzzling Danny's cheek gently with the tip of his nose. "Love you too, Danny," he said. "That was really good, that position. I didn't know you knew any kinky positions."
Danny colored up. "I didn't mean for it to be kinky," he said.
"Well it was," said Al, turning to scrub at Danny's softened cock with a clean corner of the towel. "Did you learn that in boot camp, too?"
He yelped when Danny tickled him, only struggling a little bit when the man pulled him up the bed for a cuddle, stealing kisses as Danny pulled the blanket up over them.
"Thanks, Danny," he said, settling in against Danny's side and closing his eyes. "I really did need that."
"Mmm," said Danny. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Al shook his head, damp hair scrubbing against Danny's bare shoulder. "I'd've let you know if you'd hurt me, Danny," he said. "You know that."
"Good," said Danny. He stroked Al's back with the palm of his hand, slowly up and back down, listening to the younger man breathe. After a minute, he opened his mouth, curiosity forming a question at the tip of his tongue, but before he could voice it, Al shifted, curling closer.
"Don't let me sleep too long, Danny," he said, quietly. "Need to go to the library sometime, get some work done."
Danny nodded and kissed the top of his lover's head, swallowing his questions. "I'll wake you up in twenty," he said.
~*~*~*~
An hour and a half later, Danny woke from a sleep deep enough to leave him groggy. When he opened his eyes, he found Al awake but curled beside him, still, watching him with the cool sort of contemplative expression he often gave the newspaper whenever mention of the political tension with Xing over joint research efforts made the front page.
"Hey, Al," he said.
Al gave him a small smile. "Hi, Danny."
"You sleep?"
"Mmm-hmm. Not as much as you, though."
Danny blushed. "Sorry," he said.
Al shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I like watching you sleep. It's soothing, helped me think some stuff through."
He traced the curve of Danny's collarbone with the tip of his finger, then traced the outline of Danny's left pectoral, making Danny shiver.
Danny captured the finger and kissed it. "If you want to talk about it, swee-"
"They're going to declare my brother dead, Danny," Al interrupted, softly. "They said he's been gone too long. They said they waited extra time, because I was looking for him. They said it was because I wasn't able to 'produce results' that they'd decided to go ahead and declare it. They said it was my fault, Danny. Because I couldn't find Brother, I couldn't bring him home."
Danny stared at him, chest aching in sympathy for his lover. "Oh Al," he said. "I-"
"No," said Al. "Don't be sorry, Danny. Don't say that. I don't want 'sorry.' That's why I wanted to fight, earlier. I've gotten so much fucking sorry I could just choke on it."
Danny nodded. "Understood," he said.
Al's finger curled around Danny's hand, like a bird's claw. "They're going to hold a big, stupid State funeral for him on Saturday," he said. "And I'm going to have Brother back before that time. I'm so close, Danny ... I can have him home before they can do this to him, right? Right?"
Danny froze. "I don't know, sweetheart," he said. "Can you?"
Al sighed and shook his head. "No," he whispered. "No, I can't."
He lowered his head to Danny's shoulder, wiggling his hand free and tracing patterns on Danny's chest with the tip of his finger, once again. Danny draped his arm loosely around Al's back, quiet even when Al shuddered against him, tears making his chest slippery.
"I know how Brother left," said Al, after a long moment of quiet. "Roze told me what the array looked like, the one he used on himself. But those are activation arrays: they work with a bigger, more complex array. If I could just find that array, or any hint of that array ... but I'm not going to before Saturday. That's not enough time."
Danny squeezed him, hard. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said. "You've got plenty of time."
Al sniffled. "I don't want them to tell everyone he's not coming home, Danny," he said.
"I know, Al," said Danny. "I know."
They lay together, silent, for a long time, Danny stroking Al's back while Al cried. When the younger man pulled away from him, wiping his eyes with a tissue, Danny sat up and gave Al's thigh a squeeze.
"I know it probably isn't much of a consolation, sweetheart," he said. "But saying that Edward isn't coming back won't be the first lie-or the last-they'll tell. I don't think you need to worry about too many people believing it, really. Not among people who matter."
Al looked at him, long and hard, then smiled, just faintly.
"Thanks, Danny," he said. "That's good to know."
~*~*~*~
Federal regulations forbid Military personnel from breaking rank during any official ceremony. All enlisted men and women are told this during their first week of boot camp, the regulations barked at them over and over as they stand in line, learning to march and follow orders and conform and obey.
Danny stood amongst his comrades, straight-backed and eyes forward, focused on the empty coffin adorned with flowers and a photo of Edward Elric, taken back when Edward was just a boy. He listened inattentively to the speeches made by the new Fuhrer and a general he didn't recognize. He perked up a bit for General Mustang's speech, until it became apparent that it had been written for him, and fully tuned out the words spoken by the priest, describing Edward's place alongside a deity the younger man had sworn he did not believe in.
When Al stepped forward to recite the speech he'd written and rehearsed in the safety of the room he and Danny shared, Danny broke form and looked at him. Watched the anger build in Al's eyes, in the tension of his shoulders. Waited until Al gave up on his speech and said what he really wanted to say, punctuating his quick, sharp-tongued tirade with a shout of long live Edward Elric, loud enough that the generals seated beside the podium jumped in surprise.
Then, without hesitation, Danny broke rank and marched up to the front of the gathering, wrapping his arm protectively around Al's shaking shoulders as Al stepped down from the podium. He escorted Al away from the crowd and down the hill, marching in time with the step of Al's impeccably shined shoes all the way back to the dorms.
"You didn't have to do that," Al informed him, once they were alone together, his shoulders squared with bravery and resolve whose impact was lessened greatly by the fear lighting his big, round eyes.
Danny hummed softly and began unbuttoning his jacket.
"You're going to get in trouble for doing that," Al said, taking a step towards his lover, one hand tentatively reaching out, touching Danny on the forearm.
Danny continued unbuttoning his jacket, but didn't pull away.
Al's fingers curled around his arm. "Aren't you worried, Danny?"
Danny shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it up onto the bunk that, technically, was Al's, not his own, then turned and pulled Al close, cheek resting against the younger man's sun-warmed hair.
"No," he said. "It'll be okay, sweetheart."
Al squirmed. "You're a terrible liar, Danny," he said, voice muffled in the front of Danny's dress-shirt.
Danny smiled. "Yeah, I am," he said. "But I'm not lying, this time. Really, it'll be okay." He tightened his arms around his lover and turned to kiss Al's ear. "Let's just find a way to bring Edward back before I do something else to get myself tossed out of the Military, okay?"
Al nodded solemnly. "Okay," he said. "I'll do my best."
~*~*~*~
Three weeks later, Danny was removed from the Amestris Armed forces on three counts of insubordination and one count of fraternization. He packed his bags and left the dorms, stopping by the hospital on his way to the apartment he'd rented, the day he'd received his walking papers.
"Not sure, really," he answered, when Edward asked what planned to do with himself, now that he was a civilian. "I'm sure I'll figure something out."
Edward grinned at him, showing teeth. "Think you can function without someone ordering you around all the time, Broche?" he said.
"Who says he won't have that anymore, Brother?" said Al, elbowing his brother gently. "I can still order him around, even with the added burden of telling you what to do, too."
Edward laughed and elbowed Al back, his Automail arm glinting in the light from the window. "Dunno what we'd do without you, Al," he said.
Al winked at Danny. "No need to find out," he said.
And so, they never did.
~* fin *~
a) Beware my newfound fetish of Danny with a gun, trained to fight and kill, WTF.
b) All of the violence in this fic can be attributed to Barnes & Noble for not delivering my fucking Harry Potter book on time, when I had one-ONE-fucking day to read it before my students got here.
c) If you chat with me often and think you recognize something in here that we've discussed at some point? Yeah, that's probably where it came from. *cough*
d) This satisfies the tenth prompt on 30_lemons, "Boot Camp." Did I cheat? Um ... yeah. Of course.
e) And lastly, it's for pockygirl, from whom I stole pie. ^_~
If you didn't find any of that to be particularly of interest, then read the fic instead. Maybe you'll like it better.
Blind Obedience
by Mistr3ss Quickly
As long as he can remember, Sergeant Danny Broche has been trained.
Trained to wipe his feet when he comes into the house. Trained to say may I be excused? before leaving the dinner table. Trained to brush his teeth and say his prayers at bedtime, even after he grew old enough to put himself to bed.
At the age of eighteen, Danny joined the Military, and the training continued.
By the time Alphonse Elric met Danny, technically their second introduction, Sergeant Broche was trained so well, he barely seemed to think for himself. He could shine a pair of boots in his sleep. He could aim a gun and pull the trigger without hesitation. He could give and receive messages, never once stopping to consider the meaning behind the words themselves.
At first, Al hated him. Hated the blind obedience, the mindless cooperation. Hated the notion that Sergeant Broche followed him everywhere and looked after him and guarded him simply because someone had ordered him to. Hated the thought that, if ordered to do so, Sergeant Broche would hand him over, would leave him at the mercy of the very men and women who betrayed Edward, scared Edward so far into hiding that even Al couldn't find him.
~*~*~*~
First chance he got, Al tried to escape. Tried to sneak away from the soldier who snapped into a sharp salute whenever anyone in uniform walked into the room, the soldier who seemed always to fall into step with him when they walked, as though marching alongside another soldier instead of a civilian.
Sergeant Broche discovered him out in the street, breathing hard and limping a little where he'd lost his footing and fallen, trying to slip out the window of their dorm room. Blinked a few times and said Al's name like a question, green eyes gone big and dark in the shadows of the alley.
"You okay, Alphonse?" he said, when Al responded, confirming that he was, indeed, who Sergeant Broche had guessed him to be.
"No, I'm not okay," Al had answered. "I was running away, but now you've gone and ruined it."
He was surprised when Sergeant Broche laughed, tightly-squared shoulders slumping. Even more surprised when Sergeant Broche said, "Good, I'm glad that's all it is. You had me scared."
And then, when Sergeant Broche took him out of the dorm block, down to the diner three blocks away that served blueberry pie twenty-four hours a day, Al stopped being surprised and settled for being downright curious.
"Isn't this against the rules?" he said, around a mouthful of pie.
Sergeant Broche shrugged. "You looked like you could use a break in routine."
"Won't you get into trouble, if you get caught?"
Another shrug. Sergeant Broche took a bite of his own slice of pie, chased it with a sip of his coffee. "Sometimes it's worth it to bend the rules a little," he said. "Just every once in awhile."
~*~*~*~
After that, Al was wary of his bodyguard. Cautious around the man where, before, he'd simply been sullen, and suddenly desperately curious about Sergeant Broche, about the man's obedient nature.
"Why do you wear that, even when we're not in Central?" he said, when Sergeant Broche wore full uniform on one of their excursions together, sweltering under the hot Xenotime sun. "You look like you're melting."
Sergeant Broche shrugged. "It's expected that I'll dress in uniform while on duty," he said. "Which I am, when I travel with you."
"But nobody here is in the Military," said Al. "They aren't going to care if you're in uniform or not."
"No," said Sergeant Broche. "But you'll know and I'll know, and that's good enough for me."
Al frowned up at him. "I'm not going to tell on you, you know," he said, "if you want to wear normal clothes."
Sergeant Broche laughed. "I'm sure you wouldn't," he said.
"Then what's stopping you?"
Another shrug. "It's just the rules, Al," said Sergeant Broche. "I wear my uniform when I'm on duty because I don't mind wearing my uniform when I'm on duty. No reason not to wear it, where someone had a good reason for making the rule that I should wear it. Make sense?"
Al shook his head. "No," he said.
Sergeant Broche sighed, footsteps slowing gradually enough that Al noticed and stopped walking, head cocked in curiosity.
"Why do you wear your brother's coat everywhere, Al?" he asked, quietly. "Why not wear short sleeves and cotton pants like the other boys in Xenotime wear? It'd be cooler."
Al bristled. "You know why I dress like this, Danny," he growled. "Don't be an idiot."
"Just a comparison, Al," said Sergeant Broche.
"Well that's stupid, Danny," said Al. "I don't wear my brother's coat because anyone told me to. That's the difference. I can think for myself."
"I know you can, Al," said Sergeant Broche. "Calm down, please. I wasn't trying to upset you."
Al snorted and turned, marching off once again down the road towards the inn where he and his bodyguard were staying. A pace behind, he could hear his bodyguard's footsteps, Sergeant Broche following him, obedient as ever. But Sergeant Broche didn't speak to him, wisely keeping the silence between them until they'd reached their room. He spoke Al's name, softly, hand raised a little to stop Al from entering the room first. Al treated him to a deep glare, but obediently stepped back, waiting impatiently for Sergeant Broche to unlock the door and enter first, gun drawn as he checked the room for any potential dangers lurking inside.
"Danny," said Al, after three long, tense minutes had passed.
"Yes, Al?"
"It's really bothering me, what you said," said Al. "I've got to know ... do you have any idea why I dress like this? It's not just for show, it's not just to get people's pity. It's-"
"To remind you where you've been," said Sergeant Broche, without turning around, hands busy hanging his uniform jacket neatly in the closet. "To remind you where you're going. To see to it that you don't forget, even if everyone else around you does."
Al stared at him, motionless. Watched as Sergeant Broche finished with his jacket and unholstered his gun, eyes downcast as he settled at the small table at the back of the room to clean it.
"Yeah," he said, eventually. "Yeah. That's right."
~*~*~*~
Scarcely a year later, Al found that he trusted his bodyguard, a fact that annoyed him to no end.
It was Sergeant Broche's fault, he decided. Sergeant Broche, who was so well trained to do whatever he was told to do, had trained him to be obedient, placid, and trusting.
And because of it, he was getting no closer to his goal. No closer to finding his older brother.
(Which wasn't quite true, and Al knew it, and that fact annoyed him, too. But all the same, it was easier to blame Sergeant Broche rather than blame himself or-heaven forbid-his brother, whom he'd come to idolize over the years he'd been searching for him, so Al did it, and secretly felt very guilty about the whole thing.)
So Al did the only logical thing. He decided to run away.
I'll wait until Danny's asleep, he thought, as he and his bodyguard left the mess hall and walked together to the Records Room, where Al had decided he needed to go that evening. Then I'll take Brother's coat and I'll leave ... have to take some food with me, but that's okay, Danny's got peanut butter and crackers in his closet for when my tummy hurts. Big dummy, he won't even notice I'm taking them. Well, I guess that's 'cause he got them for me, but-nevermind! I'll have to take my books, too ... take them in Danny's duffle, yeah ...
But then it was bedtime, and Sergeant Broche was yawning around an offer to comb Al's hair, perched on the edge of his bunk, the bunk Al slept in more often than his own. Al hesitated, but decided it wouldn't hurt to let Sergeant Broche comb his hair, insisting to himself that it would help keep up appearances, to prevent his bodyguard from suspecting anything unusual was going on.
Sergeant Broche combed his hair in long, soothing strokes, patiently working out all the snarls. He set the comb on the bedside table while Al wound his hair into a braid and tied it off, quick and sloppy, then he rose and switched out the light, returning to his own bunk without a word, even when Al curled around him, head tucked under his chin.
He rubbed his hand up and down Al's back when Al tensed, but didn't ask if Al was all right. Gentle and trusting, he pet Al until sleep claimed him, his hand slipping off of Al's shoulder when Al shrugged it away.
Al swore under his breath and reached for his bodyguard's hand, putting it back on his shoulder where it belonged.
Can't very well get away from him, like this, anyway he thought, grumpily. I'll just have to wait until tomorrow, and then I'll ... I'll ... mmm.
Sergeant Broche's body was warm against his own, even through their pajamas, the man's hard muscles oddly comforting, the rush of his breath, not quite a snore, familiar in a way few things were, in Al's life. Al made note in his sleep-muddled mind to be bothered by all of it, to find a way to uncondition his body to respond so eagerly to Sergeant Broche's.
Within three minutes, he was fast asleep. By the time he woke again, the mental note was long gone.
~*~*~*~
For all his careful planning and silent pep-talks, Al never did manage to run away from his bodyguard. Weeks after his decision to sneak away, he was still under Sergeant Broche's care, following Sergeant Broche's schedule.
His only consolation in the matter was that Sergeant Broche kept a good schedule, one that conveniently fit his own desires for order and hard work. Together, they were up at six o'clock in the morning. They ate breakfast in the mess hall at seven o'clock, then began research at eight o'clock. Traveling, when they decided to leave the City, always began at eight o'clock, too, because packing happened the night before any trip and the trains didn't run until 8:00. Then lunch at noon, dinner at six, and bedtime by midnight. Showers, packing, and-when Al could be talked into it-leisure activities, all took place between dinner and bedtime.
They moved in synch with each other. Lived their lives day in and day out without friction or conflict.
Which should have driven Al crazy, so far as Al could tell. It should have been maddening.
Only it wasn't.
The schedule gave him something to hide behind when he finally got close enough to the truth that finding his brother was no longer a lofty, nebulous goal. No one suspected anything out of the ordinary when he and his bodyguard took home a duffle full of books. No one thought anything of it when he and his bodyguard disappeared for a week on another trip to Lior.
And on the night that Al needed comfort because he was so close but not close enough, no one thought anything of Sergeant Broche hugging him, right in the middle of Central Library, because Al still looked young enough to be hugged and Sergeant Broche looked like the sort of fellow to hug people who needed it.
Nevermind that the hug later turned into a kiss, once Al had his bodyguard alone in the darkness of their dorm room. Nevermind that one kiss turned into two or three, each deeper and longer than the next until it was difficult to keep track of where one ended and the next began.
"Mmm, Danny," Al murmured, when Danny pressed him down onto the bed they'd been sharing for months and began nibbling his neck. "Isn't this a little-aah!-against the rules?"
"Yes," said Danny, the word muffled in the collar of Al's shirt.
Al grinned, teeth flashing white in the darkness of their room. "Won't you get into trouble for it, then?"
Danny nodded, groaning when Al snaked an arm around him and pulled him close, grinding up against him. "Yes," he whispered. "But sometimes it's worth it to bend the rules a little."
"Mmm," said Al. "Just every once in awhile."
~*~*~*~
Two years later, Sergeant Broche had become "Danny" to Al, and Al had become "sweetheart" to Danny, and Danny's tendency to be easily trained no longer bothered Al.
Quite the contrary, Al found it highly amusing, moderately useful, and-from time to time-just a little bit confusing.
Life was good, though, with Sergeant Danny Broche at his side. It was good to have someone to take orders and salute, someone whose politeness and obedience offset Al's tendency to sulk and bend the rules and keep secrets. It was good to have someone to talk to, someone who could be trusted to listen and nod and keep secrets, simply because he'd promised not to tell.
Therefore, when Danny received orders one Thursday afternoon to take Al to Meeting Room B in the large conference hall on the eastern side of the City for a meeting, the following day, Danny reacted with a sharp salute, and Al reacted by teasing him. His snickering quieted when he took the order from Danny and read it, replaced with a frown when he asked Danny what the meeting would be about and Danny didn't know.
"Looks pretty official though, sweetheart, pretty serious," said Danny, pulling Al's good suit out of the closet and hanging it on the foot of their bunkbeds. "Probably best to wear this, don't you think?"
Then he sat down to polish Al's shoes, as methodical and efficient as he was when he shined his boots. Al sat down beside him and watched him work.
"I can do that myself, Danny," he said. "If you want."
Danny shook his head and turned to kiss Al on the temple. He continued polishing until Al's shoes shone, then worked on his own, finishing after Al had fallen asleep, curled up in a ball on top of the blankets.
~*~*~*~
First thing in the morning, he walked Al to the meeting hall, just as he'd been instructed to do.
"They won't let me come in, sweetheart," he said, just outside the building, far enough away that there was little risk he'd be heard calling his charge by such an affectionate pet name. "But I'll be right outside, waiting for you. Shout if you need me."
Al gave him a severe look. "I will," he said. "Same goes for you."
Then he squeezed Danny's hand, hard, and marched into the Hall, the door closing with a heavy thud behind him before Danny realized the latter half of his lover's statement had been intended as a joke. He sighed and took his position outside the hall, standing at attention as he waited.
He didn't end up waiting long.
Thirty minutes after he'd said goodbye to his lover, the younger man came storming out, shoulders squared and face set in the deepest scowl Danny had ever seen on a person. He jogged the few steps it took to catch up to Al, then fell into step with him, wisely silent as they made their way back home.
Half a block from the dorms, Al stopped dead in his tracks.
"Danny," he said, turning and glaring up at the man. "If you knew, I want you to tell me right now. Be honest with me, I'll know if you're lying."
Danny blinked at him. "Knew what?" he said.
"Knew why I'd been summoned to a meeting," said Al. "Knew what they were going to tell me, in there. Did you or did you not know?"
Danny shook his head. "Nobody told me anything, Al," he said. "Must've been something bad, huh?"
Al swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing. "Yes," he said. "Yes, it was."
His hands were clenched tightly in the fabric of his trousers, knuckles gone white. His eyes were shining, tears brimming up over the deep grey of his irises.
Danny reached for him, unsurprised when Al jerked away from him, reaching up angrily to swipe at the tears that tumbled down his cheeks. "Do you want to talk about it?" he said.
Al shook his head. "No," he said. "No, I don't want to talk about it."
That wasn't much of a surprise, either. "Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?"
"No," said Al. "There's-well yeah. Yeah, maybe."
Then he turned and took off again, marching faster than Danny could recall ever marching under a commanding officer's orders. Al didn't stop when they reached the road leading to the dorm block, instead leading his bodyguard right past the gate, up the hill and onwards, into the City proper. Danny followed him, obedient as ever, past the library, past the deli where he and Al often had lunch; past the hospital and the bookstore and the coffee shop that sold hot chocolate made from dark chocolate, which Al liked better than anything else.
The sun had risen high in the sky by the time they reached Central Gardens, Al's apparent goal. Sweating in his uniform, Danny was glad for the shade of the trees, the breeze whispering through the branches, cool on the back of his neck. He stopped when Al stopped, standing rigid at attention.
At the look his lover gave him, he had to resist saluting.
"Danny," said Al.
"Yeah?" said Danny.
"I want you to fight me," said Al. "And then, I want to go home and I want you to fuck me until I'm too tired and too sore to even consider doing or saying half the things I so desperately want to do and say right now."
Danny blinked at him. Al's eyes narrowed.
"Is there a problem with that, Sergeant?"
"Um," said Danny. "No. No, that's ... um ... yeah. I can do that."
"Good," said Al. He shrugged out of his suitcoat and tugged off his tie. "Then please. Attack me at your leisure."
Once again, Danny resisted the urge to salute, instead checking his gun to see that the safety was, indeed, on, then unbuttoning his jacket, bending set it on the grass beside Al's coat. He drew a deep breath and sunk into fighting stance, watching his lover's eyes.
Al stared back, all but snarling.
He parried the first two punches Danny aimed at him before throwing a punch of his own, which Danny caught and twisted, sending Al into a graceful twirl that broke him free of Danny's grip. Another set of punches and a kick, then Al's fist nicked Danny's side, hard enough to hurt.
"Point to you," said Danny, parrying another well-aimed punch.
Al growled at him in answer.
The next point went to Al-his foot hooking behind Danny's right knee, bringing Danny down-and the next, as well, before Danny's pride was wounded enough for him to really fight back. Then the fight turned into an all-out scuffle, with points muddled and fists flying, Al's good shirt streaked with grass-stains and mud, Danny's dress-shirt stained beyond repair.
Danny knee'd Al in the stomach, hard, and got a blow to the neck in return, hard enough that his vision briefly went black, his entire body protesting as he hit the ground, too disoriented to move.
"You win," he gasped, when he heard the grass beside his ear rustling under the toe of Al's shoe. "I'm done, you win."
Movement, and the touch of Al's hand on his chest. Danny opened his eyes and tried to give the younger man a reassuring smile.
"You win," he repeated.
Al's frown didn't budge. "Maybe," he said. "But you fought really well, Danny. I didn't know you could fight like that."
Danny laughed, which hurt, so he stopped. "Yeah," he said. "Learned that in boot camp."
"Huh," said Al. "Good to know. Can you get up?"
"Yeah," said Danny. He pushed himself up, struggling not to wince at the protests from his back, abs, ribs, and neck. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Al snorted and stuck out his hand. "Here," he said.
Danny took his hand. "Back to the dorms?" he said. "Or do you want to-"
"Of course back to the dorm, Danny," said Al. "I don't think getting arrested for public indecency would be very fun, do you?"
Danny blushed to his roots and fumbled with his uniform jacket, mumbling something about no that wouldn't be very fun and buttoning up the front of his jacket crookedly. Al sighed and reached for him, swiftly unbuttoning and rebuttoning the jacket properly.
"Come on," he said. "On the double."
That time, Danny saluted.
~*~*~*~
Al had glared fiercely at his bodyguard when Danny insisted on bathing, first thing upon their return to the dorms. After five minutes of bathing beside the man, however, watching him grow more and more aroused, even under the flow of cold water, Al's sulking lessened considerably, leaving behind only the bad mood he'd been in the moment he left the meeting hall as he followed Danny out of the showers, hair dripping down his chest.
"Now," he said, once they were safely locked away in their room, his towel rumpled on the floor where he'd let it drop. "I want you to fuck me, Danny."
He pushed Danny backwards until they'd reached the bunkbeds and shoved the man down, then stole his towel and tossed it to the foot of the bed, just to illustrate his point.
Danny gave a nervous little laugh and pulled Al into his lap, kissing him gently on the lips. "You're not hard yet, sweetheart," he said, gently, looking down between them to his erection, bullying Al's half-hard cock.
"Yeah?" said Al. "Well then it's a good thing you're going to fuck me, then isn't it?"
"Sweetheart ..."
"Danny."
Then the room spun, and Danny found himself staring up at the underside of Al's bunk, which Al'd not slept in for well over ten months. Al squirmed around a bit, stretching out to argue the tube of lubricant out of Danny's pillow, then settled himself over Danny's lap, Danny's cock rubbing in the warm cleft of his ass.
"I told you," he said, wetting two of his own fingers with lubricant and reaching back, behind himself, thighs tensing as he began fingering himself none-too-gently. "I want you to fuck me. Not think about what we're doing or how we're doing it, just do it. Haven't you learned by now that that's how sex should be, sometimes? Fast and raw and-Danny, what are you doing?"
Danny tightened his grip on Al's wrist, preventing movement of any kind. "What you told me to do, sweetheart," he said, gently. "I want to get you ready, since I'm going to ... um ... do you."
Al's eyes narrowed. He jerked his arm out of his lover's grasp, but obediently withdrew his fingers, twisting enough to grab a tissue from the bedside table.
"Fine," he said, wiping lube off his fingers.
"Good," said Danny. "Would you please turn around so I can see what I'm doing?"
Al rolled his eyes, but turned around, hands braced just below Danny's kneecaps for balance as the older man shifted to sit up. He moaned softly at the feel of Danny's fingers, bigger than his own and rougher with callouses from years of combat training, pushing into his body, twisting a little to spread the lube around.
"Faster, Danny," he said, after a minute, when Danny had done nothing but thrust two fingers in and out of him, gently stretching him and tickling his prostate. "Come on, this is supposed to wear me out."
Behind him, he could hear Danny fumbling with the lube, adding more to his fingers and mumbling an apology. His lover had, however, learned well over the years they'd been together that testing Al's patience when Al was upset already was a very bad idea, and so, for all his fumbling and mumbling, Danny did manage to get three fingers into Al without too much delay, pushing hard enough that Al moaned and shuddered, still and tense as Danny worked him.
"Dan~ny," he murmured, when Danny pulled his fingers out completely and began adding more lube to them.
"Yes, sweetheart?"
Al wiggled backwards, rubbing himself against the slick head of Danny's erection. "Fuck me, Danny. Now."
Danny groaned and slipped an arm around Al's waist, pulling the younger man back for a wet, open-mouthed kiss as he slicked himself. "Raise up a little for me, sweetheart," he murmured, hand splayed across on Al's bare chest. "There, now ... aah, Al ..."
He rested his forehead on Al's shoulder, swallowing hard as Al lowered himself down, inch by inch, slowly working Danny's cock inside. His fingers twitched on Al's chest, hand stuttering against Al's sweat-sticky skin as he felt blindly for one of the younger man's nipples, his other arm stretched behind him, bracing him against the mattress. When Al's backside came to rest against his groin, ass clenching faintly around the entire length of his cock, Danny groaned and gave his lover's nipple one last squeeze, then moved his hand higher, across Al's smooth collarbone, up his throat and over his chin, coming to rest over Al's fluttering eyelids.
"Relax, sweetheart," he said, softly, nuzzling Al's ear affectionately, soothingly, when Al tensed up against him. "Trust me."
"Your hand's hurting my nose, move it higher," said Al. He shifted his hips a little, lifting and lowering himself a little on Danny's lap. "There. That's better."
Danny groaned. "Okay for me to move?"
Al growled and rocked his hips again, harder this time. "Only if you don't want me to do it for you," he said. "Come on, Danny, hurry aah!"
He yelped when Danny bucked under him again, hands outstretched blindly, groping for something to hold onto, his right hand smacking painfully against the wall by the bed. He pressed his palm against the wall for balance and relaxed his body back against Danny's, breathing harshly.
"Danny," he gasped. "This's weird ..."
Danny hesitated. "Want me to stop?"
"Hn-nhn," said Al, shaking his head as much as he could without dislodging Danny's hand from his eyes. "Good weird."
Tentatively, Danny thrust into him again, mouthing the shell of Al's ear. When Al answered him with a long, broken groan and began moving in counterpoint, free hand jerking himself off, Danny shuddered, confidence boosted enough that he closed his eyes and gave Al the fucking he'd been asking for.
In and in, fast and hard and not quite even enough for Al to match him perfectly, but good, all the same. Danny murmured his lover's name and chased the pleasure he felt pooling in his gut, orgasm approaching far too quickly, as always, but it hardly mattered. Al was making noise constantly, little whimpers and growls interrupted by a yelp each time Danny rubbed directly over his prostate, and the way he moved, writhing and bucking and shuddering ...
Danny tightened the arm wrapped around his lover and pulled down, pinning Al in his lap. Al squirmed and bucked, his attempts to free himself generating delicious friction up and down the length of Danny's cock. He whined and called Danny a bad name, then shivered and tightened up, quieting as he realized that his lover was coming in him.
"Danny," he said, stroking himself harder. "Oh Danny ... Danny ... Danny ..."
"Mmm," said Danny, panting through the aftershocks of his orgasm. He slid his hand down Al's chest and belly, brushing his fingers over Al's furiously stroking fist before dipping lower, cupping the younger man's balls up, tight against Al's body. "Come on, sweetheart," he murmured. "Come for me."
Al growled. "Pull out and finger me, Danny," he said. "Fuck me, make me come."
Danny's cock, softening inside Al's body, twitched. Danny swallowed hard and pushed himself up, folding his legs under him as Al rocked forward, ass in the air and legs spread, his asshole wet and glistening.
"You're so sexy, Al," he murmured gently, slipping his index finger carefully into Al's ass.
Al groaned and pushed his hips back, bumping Danny's hand. "Da~nny," he snarled. "C'mon, two fingers ... you just fucked me, I'm loose enough for you to be rough with me. Come on, Danny. Fuck me."
Danny blinked at him, then hurried to obey, thrusting his index and middle fingers into Al's body and moving them back and forth, just as fast as he'd been fucking the younger man, just moments before.
It didn't take Al long, after that. He buried his face in the towel lying rumpled at the foot of Danny's bed and moaned loudly, jerking himself hard enough that the bed squeaked in protest. When he came, he arched up and stilled, mouth open as though orgasm had taken him by surprise, his hand a blur until the first splatter of semen hit the bed, staining the dark blue of Danny's blanket.
"Oh," he murmured, once he'd finished, his hand slowing to coax the last dribble of come from the tip of his cock. "Oh Danny ... mmm."
Danny pulled his fingers free and helped Al sit up, stealing a kiss while Al groped blindly for the towel and began cleaning himself.
"I love you, Al," he said, softly.
Al kissed him back, nuzzling Danny's cheek gently with the tip of his nose. "Love you too, Danny," he said. "That was really good, that position. I didn't know you knew any kinky positions."
Danny colored up. "I didn't mean for it to be kinky," he said.
"Well it was," said Al, turning to scrub at Danny's softened cock with a clean corner of the towel. "Did you learn that in boot camp, too?"
He yelped when Danny tickled him, only struggling a little bit when the man pulled him up the bed for a cuddle, stealing kisses as Danny pulled the blanket up over them.
"Thanks, Danny," he said, settling in against Danny's side and closing his eyes. "I really did need that."
"Mmm," said Danny. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Al shook his head, damp hair scrubbing against Danny's bare shoulder. "I'd've let you know if you'd hurt me, Danny," he said. "You know that."
"Good," said Danny. He stroked Al's back with the palm of his hand, slowly up and back down, listening to the younger man breathe. After a minute, he opened his mouth, curiosity forming a question at the tip of his tongue, but before he could voice it, Al shifted, curling closer.
"Don't let me sleep too long, Danny," he said, quietly. "Need to go to the library sometime, get some work done."
Danny nodded and kissed the top of his lover's head, swallowing his questions. "I'll wake you up in twenty," he said.
~*~*~*~
An hour and a half later, Danny woke from a sleep deep enough to leave him groggy. When he opened his eyes, he found Al awake but curled beside him, still, watching him with the cool sort of contemplative expression he often gave the newspaper whenever mention of the political tension with Xing over joint research efforts made the front page.
"Hey, Al," he said.
Al gave him a small smile. "Hi, Danny."
"You sleep?"
"Mmm-hmm. Not as much as you, though."
Danny blushed. "Sorry," he said.
Al shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I like watching you sleep. It's soothing, helped me think some stuff through."
He traced the curve of Danny's collarbone with the tip of his finger, then traced the outline of Danny's left pectoral, making Danny shiver.
Danny captured the finger and kissed it. "If you want to talk about it, swee-"
"They're going to declare my brother dead, Danny," Al interrupted, softly. "They said he's been gone too long. They said they waited extra time, because I was looking for him. They said it was because I wasn't able to 'produce results' that they'd decided to go ahead and declare it. They said it was my fault, Danny. Because I couldn't find Brother, I couldn't bring him home."
Danny stared at him, chest aching in sympathy for his lover. "Oh Al," he said. "I-"
"No," said Al. "Don't be sorry, Danny. Don't say that. I don't want 'sorry.' That's why I wanted to fight, earlier. I've gotten so much fucking sorry I could just choke on it."
Danny nodded. "Understood," he said.
Al's finger curled around Danny's hand, like a bird's claw. "They're going to hold a big, stupid State funeral for him on Saturday," he said. "And I'm going to have Brother back before that time. I'm so close, Danny ... I can have him home before they can do this to him, right? Right?"
Danny froze. "I don't know, sweetheart," he said. "Can you?"
Al sighed and shook his head. "No," he whispered. "No, I can't."
He lowered his head to Danny's shoulder, wiggling his hand free and tracing patterns on Danny's chest with the tip of his finger, once again. Danny draped his arm loosely around Al's back, quiet even when Al shuddered against him, tears making his chest slippery.
"I know how Brother left," said Al, after a long moment of quiet. "Roze told me what the array looked like, the one he used on himself. But those are activation arrays: they work with a bigger, more complex array. If I could just find that array, or any hint of that array ... but I'm not going to before Saturday. That's not enough time."
Danny squeezed him, hard. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he said. "You've got plenty of time."
Al sniffled. "I don't want them to tell everyone he's not coming home, Danny," he said.
"I know, Al," said Danny. "I know."
They lay together, silent, for a long time, Danny stroking Al's back while Al cried. When the younger man pulled away from him, wiping his eyes with a tissue, Danny sat up and gave Al's thigh a squeeze.
"I know it probably isn't much of a consolation, sweetheart," he said. "But saying that Edward isn't coming back won't be the first lie-or the last-they'll tell. I don't think you need to worry about too many people believing it, really. Not among people who matter."
Al looked at him, long and hard, then smiled, just faintly.
"Thanks, Danny," he said. "That's good to know."
~*~*~*~
Federal regulations forbid Military personnel from breaking rank during any official ceremony. All enlisted men and women are told this during their first week of boot camp, the regulations barked at them over and over as they stand in line, learning to march and follow orders and conform and obey.
Danny stood amongst his comrades, straight-backed and eyes forward, focused on the empty coffin adorned with flowers and a photo of Edward Elric, taken back when Edward was just a boy. He listened inattentively to the speeches made by the new Fuhrer and a general he didn't recognize. He perked up a bit for General Mustang's speech, until it became apparent that it had been written for him, and fully tuned out the words spoken by the priest, describing Edward's place alongside a deity the younger man had sworn he did not believe in.
When Al stepped forward to recite the speech he'd written and rehearsed in the safety of the room he and Danny shared, Danny broke form and looked at him. Watched the anger build in Al's eyes, in the tension of his shoulders. Waited until Al gave up on his speech and said what he really wanted to say, punctuating his quick, sharp-tongued tirade with a shout of long live Edward Elric, loud enough that the generals seated beside the podium jumped in surprise.
Then, without hesitation, Danny broke rank and marched up to the front of the gathering, wrapping his arm protectively around Al's shaking shoulders as Al stepped down from the podium. He escorted Al away from the crowd and down the hill, marching in time with the step of Al's impeccably shined shoes all the way back to the dorms.
"You didn't have to do that," Al informed him, once they were alone together, his shoulders squared with bravery and resolve whose impact was lessened greatly by the fear lighting his big, round eyes.
Danny hummed softly and began unbuttoning his jacket.
"You're going to get in trouble for doing that," Al said, taking a step towards his lover, one hand tentatively reaching out, touching Danny on the forearm.
Danny continued unbuttoning his jacket, but didn't pull away.
Al's fingers curled around his arm. "Aren't you worried, Danny?"
Danny shrugged out of his jacket and tossed it up onto the bunk that, technically, was Al's, not his own, then turned and pulled Al close, cheek resting against the younger man's sun-warmed hair.
"No," he said. "It'll be okay, sweetheart."
Al squirmed. "You're a terrible liar, Danny," he said, voice muffled in the front of Danny's dress-shirt.
Danny smiled. "Yeah, I am," he said. "But I'm not lying, this time. Really, it'll be okay." He tightened his arms around his lover and turned to kiss Al's ear. "Let's just find a way to bring Edward back before I do something else to get myself tossed out of the Military, okay?"
Al nodded solemnly. "Okay," he said. "I'll do my best."
~*~*~*~
Three weeks later, Danny was removed from the Amestris Armed forces on three counts of insubordination and one count of fraternization. He packed his bags and left the dorms, stopping by the hospital on his way to the apartment he'd rented, the day he'd received his walking papers.
"Not sure, really," he answered, when Edward asked what planned to do with himself, now that he was a civilian. "I'm sure I'll figure something out."
Edward grinned at him, showing teeth. "Think you can function without someone ordering you around all the time, Broche?" he said.
"Who says he won't have that anymore, Brother?" said Al, elbowing his brother gently. "I can still order him around, even with the added burden of telling you what to do, too."
Edward laughed and elbowed Al back, his Automail arm glinting in the light from the window. "Dunno what we'd do without you, Al," he said.
Al winked at Danny. "No need to find out," he said.
And so, they never did.
~* fin *~