Full Metal Alchemist, "Well-Worn," Edward/Russel, NC-17
I wrote this fic in my notebook during a lecture on law and its relationship to Sharia, the code of morality and proper conduct in Islamic faith. The lecture was wonderful; I remember it more clearly because my brain now ties it to this story.
The story, however, has NOTHING to do with law of any sort, or even morals. It's the product of a plotbunny that hopped up and chomped on my shin while I was chatting online with sailormac two nights past. It got ahold of this gorgeous art by new_wave_witch and my avoidance of writing the fic was all over.
This is my (very NC-17) answer to the seme/uke stereotypes. Nya.
Well-Worn
by Mistress Quickly
Edward pushed the door to the bedroom he shared with his husband closed with his toes, then began undressing, peeling clothing damp from watering the garden with his brother’s five-year-old daughter off of his tired limbs, then flopped onto the bed with a groan.
"Hey, Russ," he said, reaching tiredly for his husband’s beautifully naked body.
"Hey, Ed," said Russel, shifting only enough so that he could see the other man. "Al and ‘Zanne make it to the station okay?"
"Yeah," said Edward. "Al said they could wait for me to put on dry clothing, but ‘Zanne was looking sleepy, so I told him not to worry about it." He gave Russel’s side a squeeze. "Felt damn good to get out of those clothes when I got home, though, I have to admit."
Russel chuckled. "Looks pretty good, too."
Edward hmm’d softly and wiggled, bare skin whispering against the soft sheets, rolling forward and spreading his legs, his Automail knee nudging between Russel's legs. "Is that so?" he said.
"Mmm, yeah," said Russel.
"You wanna fuck?" said Edward.
Russel kissed the man's forehead. "Absolutely," he said. "But I want you inside me, baby. Take me, just like you did the first time after you came home, nice and slow?"
"Ooh," said Edward, trailing his hand down to stroke the soft curls surrounding Russel’s growing erection. "That sounds pretty good, Russ. But honestly? I was kind of hoping that you'd fuck me. However you want, fast or slow, I don’t care, just fuck me."
Russel frowned. "But ... if we do that, then you won’t be taking me," he said.
"So?" said Edward, giving Russel’s cock a few slow, firm strokes. "I take you all the time. ‘S my turn now, eh?"
Russel pondered that notion for a moment. "You’re older than I am," he said, eventually.
"So?"
"So, traditionally, isn’t the older guy supposed to top?"
Edward wrinkled his nose. "No, I think ..." He frowned. "I think it’s the taller guy who’s supposed to top. Shut up, Russ!"
Russel choked off his snickering and kissed his husband's forehead again. "All right, Ed," he said. "Because you were so humble as to admit that you’re a shrimp, you win, I’ll take you." He reached for Edward’s hand, threading their fingers together so that the both of them could stroke his cock. "Climb up on me and I'll get you ready, then you can ride me. Sound good?"
Edward wiggled away from the tickle of Russel's breath across his forehead, tilting his head back so that he could meet Russel's eyes. "Not today, Russ," he said. "I want you to just fuck me, no games, you know? Just fuck me 'til we come, nothing fancy."
"But you like riding me," said Russel. "You said just the other day that it was one of your favorite positions."
Edward sighed. "Well yeah," he said. "But it’s best when you ride me." He thrust his hips forward a little, suggestively. "A compromise, then. Since you wanted so badly for me to take you, then get up here and ride me, hmm? My favorite position, your preferred role."
Silence answered him. Then:
"Ed?"
"Yeah, Russ?"
"I’ve got a confession."
"Hmm? What’s that, Russ?"
Russel sighed. "I’m so sorry, Ed. I’m just too tired to take you or ride you. I do want to make love but ... I'm tired."
Edward was quiet a moment, then laughed softly.
"Hey Russ?" he said
"Yeah, Ed?"
"I’ve got a confession, too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Edward grunted and turned, cuddling close to his husband, laughing softly. "You're not the only one too tired to fuck, Russ," he said. "I am too."
~♥ ~♥ ~♥~
They’d lain together nearly half an hour, slipping in and out of consciousness, when Russel chuckled, stroking Edward's soft hair, tracing the hard line of the man's jaw. "I wonder how Al and Danny manage," he said. "I mean, you and I have sex more than anyone in Amestris, I’m pretty sure, and yet, after one afternoon-after one afternoon-of taking care of a five-year-old, we’re both too worn out to even make out, let alone make love."
His husband snorted. "Maybe they just don’t have sex," he said. "I mean, when they were dating, they proved that they can survive without doing each other. Not that we can’t survive without it, too, but ... you know what I mean."
"I guess that’s a possibility," said Russel. "But it seems kind of sad, though, like if you and I only got five years of lovemaking after you came home from Germany, then had to stop."
Edward wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, good point. That would have sucked. Then ... hmm. How do you suppose they .... oh. Oh."
"Ed?"
Edward groaned and tipped his forehead forward, so that it rested against Russel's. "Think about it, Russ," he said. "If ‘Zanne’s here, wearing us out, then Al and Danny are home alone, not getting worn out." He snorted. "We're their sex break, by babysitting."
Russel chuckled. "Yeah, that makes sense, doesn’t it? Oh well, at least we’re helping them out. That’s good to know."
"Yeah," said Edward. He stretched up and kissed his husband, then settle back down against him with a sigh. "Love you, Russ."
"Love you, too, Ed," said Russel.
"Hey Russ?"
"Yeah, Ed?"
"I still want to fuck."
"Mmm, so do I, baby."
"Want to nap first?"
"Yeah, that sounds good." Russel stretched, then relaxed with a sigh, pulling Edward into his arms. "But baby?"
"Mmm-hmm?"
Russel kissed Edward’s soft hair, breathed the familiar mix of shampoo and earth, of sweat and sunshine. "I get to bottom."
Edward nodded, too tired to argue.
~♥~OMAKE~♥~
Hours later, warm from a nap and legs spread as far as he could spread them, Russel was moaning, begging his husband incoherently as the older man steadily pounded into him, rubbing his prostate with every push, long hair sticking to the sweat of Russel's back, tickling his hyper-sensitive skin.
With a throaty cry, he tightened around Edward's cock, shuddering and bucking, his voice cracking as he begged for release, his back arched and hands gripping the headboard until his knuckles were white. Edward answered with a cry of his own, reaching around Russel's body to take the man's aching erection in hand, stroking hard and fast and steady until Russel froze and started to come, semen dripping messily over Edward's fingers.
Edward waited until Russel had finished, his husband slumped and panting and murmuring love and praise, then growled and gripped Russel's hips, thrusting hard while Russel moaned for him, brokenly sobbing how good Edward felt, how big and hard and deep he could feel Edward's cock inside him, giving him pleasure. And then Edward was coming, back arched and head thrown back, cock pushed as deep into Russel's body as possible, semen pulsing out of him for what felt like an age.
Sated and trembling, he pulled out and rocked back onto his heels, guiding Russel gently back for a deep kiss and a loose, loving hug.
"That," he said, "was amazing."
"Mmm," said Russel, "it was. Wearing you out so much that you have to wait for sex makes for a pretty good time, you know that? We might have to do this more often."
Edward snorted. "Sadist," he grumbled.
"I love you too, baby," said Russel.
And when the phone rang and Russel answered it, Fletcher commented that his brother sounded happy, then asked sweetly if Russel would be willing to watch Helen over a weekend when he and Winry were scheduled to conduct a workshop at Central Hospital. Russel didn't hesitate to say yes, winking at Edward as the man cleaned up the semen and lube splashed across the mattress from their lovemaking.
Edward winked back and didn't complain. Not at all.
"But this time," he said, when Russel hung up the phone and padded over to help him make the bed, "you have to be on top."
Russel grinned and kissed him. "Anything you want, baby," he said.
And all was right with their world.
The story, however, has NOTHING to do with law of any sort, or even morals. It's the product of a plotbunny that hopped up and chomped on my shin while I was chatting online with sailormac two nights past. It got ahold of this gorgeous art by new_wave_witch and my avoidance of writing the fic was all over.
This is my (very NC-17) answer to the seme/uke stereotypes. Nya.
Well-Worn
by Mistress Quickly
Edward pushed the door to the bedroom he shared with his husband closed with his toes, then began undressing, peeling clothing damp from watering the garden with his brother’s five-year-old daughter off of his tired limbs, then flopped onto the bed with a groan.
"Hey, Russ," he said, reaching tiredly for his husband’s beautifully naked body.
"Hey, Ed," said Russel, shifting only enough so that he could see the other man. "Al and ‘Zanne make it to the station okay?"
"Yeah," said Edward. "Al said they could wait for me to put on dry clothing, but ‘Zanne was looking sleepy, so I told him not to worry about it." He gave Russel’s side a squeeze. "Felt damn good to get out of those clothes when I got home, though, I have to admit."
Russel chuckled. "Looks pretty good, too."
Edward hmm’d softly and wiggled, bare skin whispering against the soft sheets, rolling forward and spreading his legs, his Automail knee nudging between Russel's legs. "Is that so?" he said.
"Mmm, yeah," said Russel.
"You wanna fuck?" said Edward.
Russel kissed the man's forehead. "Absolutely," he said. "But I want you inside me, baby. Take me, just like you did the first time after you came home, nice and slow?"
"Ooh," said Edward, trailing his hand down to stroke the soft curls surrounding Russel’s growing erection. "That sounds pretty good, Russ. But honestly? I was kind of hoping that you'd fuck me. However you want, fast or slow, I don’t care, just fuck me."
Russel frowned. "But ... if we do that, then you won’t be taking me," he said.
"So?" said Edward, giving Russel’s cock a few slow, firm strokes. "I take you all the time. ‘S my turn now, eh?"
Russel pondered that notion for a moment. "You’re older than I am," he said, eventually.
"So?"
"So, traditionally, isn’t the older guy supposed to top?"
Edward wrinkled his nose. "No, I think ..." He frowned. "I think it’s the taller guy who’s supposed to top. Shut up, Russ!"
Russel choked off his snickering and kissed his husband's forehead again. "All right, Ed," he said. "Because you were so humble as to admit that you’re a shrimp, you win, I’ll take you." He reached for Edward’s hand, threading their fingers together so that the both of them could stroke his cock. "Climb up on me and I'll get you ready, then you can ride me. Sound good?"
Edward wiggled away from the tickle of Russel's breath across his forehead, tilting his head back so that he could meet Russel's eyes. "Not today, Russ," he said. "I want you to just fuck me, no games, you know? Just fuck me 'til we come, nothing fancy."
"But you like riding me," said Russel. "You said just the other day that it was one of your favorite positions."
Edward sighed. "Well yeah," he said. "But it’s best when you ride me." He thrust his hips forward a little, suggestively. "A compromise, then. Since you wanted so badly for me to take you, then get up here and ride me, hmm? My favorite position, your preferred role."
Silence answered him. Then:
"Ed?"
"Yeah, Russ?"
"I’ve got a confession."
"Hmm? What’s that, Russ?"
Russel sighed. "I’m so sorry, Ed. I’m just too tired to take you or ride you. I do want to make love but ... I'm tired."
Edward was quiet a moment, then laughed softly.
"Hey Russ?" he said
"Yeah, Ed?"
"I’ve got a confession, too."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." Edward grunted and turned, cuddling close to his husband, laughing softly. "You're not the only one too tired to fuck, Russ," he said. "I am too."
~♥ ~♥ ~♥~
They’d lain together nearly half an hour, slipping in and out of consciousness, when Russel chuckled, stroking Edward's soft hair, tracing the hard line of the man's jaw. "I wonder how Al and Danny manage," he said. "I mean, you and I have sex more than anyone in Amestris, I’m pretty sure, and yet, after one afternoon-after one afternoon-of taking care of a five-year-old, we’re both too worn out to even make out, let alone make love."
His husband snorted. "Maybe they just don’t have sex," he said. "I mean, when they were dating, they proved that they can survive without doing each other. Not that we can’t survive without it, too, but ... you know what I mean."
"I guess that’s a possibility," said Russel. "But it seems kind of sad, though, like if you and I only got five years of lovemaking after you came home from Germany, then had to stop."
Edward wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, good point. That would have sucked. Then ... hmm. How do you suppose they .... oh. Oh."
"Ed?"
Edward groaned and tipped his forehead forward, so that it rested against Russel's. "Think about it, Russ," he said. "If ‘Zanne’s here, wearing us out, then Al and Danny are home alone, not getting worn out." He snorted. "We're their sex break, by babysitting."
Russel chuckled. "Yeah, that makes sense, doesn’t it? Oh well, at least we’re helping them out. That’s good to know."
"Yeah," said Edward. He stretched up and kissed his husband, then settle back down against him with a sigh. "Love you, Russ."
"Love you, too, Ed," said Russel.
"Hey Russ?"
"Yeah, Ed?"
"I still want to fuck."
"Mmm, so do I, baby."
"Want to nap first?"
"Yeah, that sounds good." Russel stretched, then relaxed with a sigh, pulling Edward into his arms. "But baby?"
"Mmm-hmm?"
Russel kissed Edward’s soft hair, breathed the familiar mix of shampoo and earth, of sweat and sunshine. "I get to bottom."
Edward nodded, too tired to argue.
~♥~OMAKE~♥~
Hours later, warm from a nap and legs spread as far as he could spread them, Russel was moaning, begging his husband incoherently as the older man steadily pounded into him, rubbing his prostate with every push, long hair sticking to the sweat of Russel's back, tickling his hyper-sensitive skin.
With a throaty cry, he tightened around Edward's cock, shuddering and bucking, his voice cracking as he begged for release, his back arched and hands gripping the headboard until his knuckles were white. Edward answered with a cry of his own, reaching around Russel's body to take the man's aching erection in hand, stroking hard and fast and steady until Russel froze and started to come, semen dripping messily over Edward's fingers.
Edward waited until Russel had finished, his husband slumped and panting and murmuring love and praise, then growled and gripped Russel's hips, thrusting hard while Russel moaned for him, brokenly sobbing how good Edward felt, how big and hard and deep he could feel Edward's cock inside him, giving him pleasure. And then Edward was coming, back arched and head thrown back, cock pushed as deep into Russel's body as possible, semen pulsing out of him for what felt like an age.
Sated and trembling, he pulled out and rocked back onto his heels, guiding Russel gently back for a deep kiss and a loose, loving hug.
"That," he said, "was amazing."
"Mmm," said Russel, "it was. Wearing you out so much that you have to wait for sex makes for a pretty good time, you know that? We might have to do this more often."
Edward snorted. "Sadist," he grumbled.
"I love you too, baby," said Russel.
And when the phone rang and Russel answered it, Fletcher commented that his brother sounded happy, then asked sweetly if Russel would be willing to watch Helen over a weekend when he and Winry were scheduled to conduct a workshop at Central Hospital. Russel didn't hesitate to say yes, winking at Edward as the man cleaned up the semen and lube splashed across the mattress from their lovemaking.
Edward winked back and didn't complain. Not at all.
"But this time," he said, when Russel hung up the phone and padded over to help him make the bed, "you have to be on top."
Russel grinned and kissed him. "Anything you want, baby," he said.
And all was right with their world.