Ficcage
Okay I don't know if I did this one justice. I really like the Al POV, not sold on the Ed POV. ConCrit is appreciated.
Title: Shades of Grey (sequel to No More Yielding but a Dream)
Pairing: Elricest
Word count: 1932
Rating: PG-13? R?
Summary:
Soft warm light on smooth pale skin, dark golden hair splayed around a face still rounded with the clinging remains of childhood. Cheeks flushed and wet lips parted to let out gasping breathy moans. Hands, long fingered and elegant pressed against his chest, trailing lines of heat down his body. The dark fan of eyelashes fluttering open, hazel eyes bright with want in the morning light. Lush pink lips move slightly, the murmur little more than the whisper of a snowflake.
“This isn’t real, Brother.”
Ed gasped, jolted from sleep into awareness. The windows cried out from their frames, the very walls shaking from the force of the thunder barreling its way through the clouds overhead. For a brief, horrifying moment Ed felt his chest seize, breath stolen from his lungs as his mind desperately fought the panic and confusion. Slowly, he forced his body to relax, memory finally righting itself.
It was a dream and nothing more. He slumped against his pillows, eyes closing and forcing his breathing into some semblance of calm. Frustration gnawed at him, drawing an irritated growl from him that the demanding sky echoed. For months now he’d woken to fragments of dreams fed by a stolen moment one morning back in January. He shook his head faintly though he found he could not summon up his usual anger. He was just so tired these days.
A sharp chill hovered in the air, thick and heavy with moisture. His shoulder ached, the cold and damp making the flesh around his auto mail port throb. Even that could not distract him from the guilt. When his nights were not filled with nightmares of his past he was haunted by enticing visions of pale skin and dark gold hair. It made him cringe just to think of it. Yet every dream that left his body achingly unfulfilled was of his brother. His dear sweet innocent little brother.
Part of his mind supplied that Alphonse was not so very innocent, images of his brother’s lithe body arching on his bed erection pulsing in his own hand flashed unbidden through his mind and he once again cursed himself for leaving his towel hanging on the closet door that day. He could’ve ignored the bizarre observations of his subconscious but that scene would not leave his mind.
Thunder growled through the sky again, not quite as earth shaking as the peal that had woken him but potent nonetheless and Edward wondered how long the rain would hold off. He forced his eyes open, and fought away the dark thoughts that always came with the rain. Watching the bare expanse of the ceiling, he slowly counted the seconds until lightening tore through the dark sky, casting harsh shadows across the room. He blinked hard, eyes unwilling to focus after the shock of the bright light. Slowly he turned his head, casting his eyes around the rest of the room.
Grey light did more to lessen the illumination of the room than to brighten it. Cold and hard, the dull light flattened the world into a monotonous two dimensional thing. Color leached from the room, the wood of the doors, the color of the walls, the curtains and bedclothes, all nothing more than shades of grey. Even Alphonse, sprawled on his back, one hand curled on his chest, the other arm dangling off the bed, was pale in the early morning light.
Ed’s stomach lurched as he stared at his brother’s sleeping form. In the early morning light, his face was colorless. His usually pale skin, deathly so in the grey light and in his minds eye Edward could see their mother, lying just like that as the light left her eyes. Gold eyes clenched closed and he took in a gasping breath. It was just a storm, Al was just sleeping, there was nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about. It was something he had to remind himself of so frequently that the words had all but lost their meaning. When he opened his eyes again he made himself speak the words, quietly and under his breath so as not to wake his brother, though in truth he desperately wanted to shout them, wrench the younger man from sleep to assure himself that this was not the dream.
Lightening flashed again, accompanied by a whine of thunder high in the clouds, the spark lighting the sky to violet and bathing the room in a flash of blue. Ed’s breath caught painfully in his chest, watching the light play over his brother’s pale skin. So very similar to the light of their failed alchemy all those years ago. Another flicker in the clouds and he was on his feet, crossing the room before he even knew what he was doing.
With a tentative hand he reached out, fingers brushing over Al’s face. Lightening flashed once more and he wondered what was worse, those large expressive eyes wide in fear, or like this, still and void amongst a casket of flannel sheets.
“Al…” his voice was rough with sleep and irrational fear. Al was fine, he really shouldn’t be waking him up. It was probably only barely past dawn. Despite his reasoning there was a something in him that could not let go, that was convinced that this was some terrifyingly marvelous dream and he would wake to blood and pain and nothing but metal and fear once again. “Al.” He murmured more insistently, panic rising like a tide within him when his brother did not respond.
“Alphonse.” The third time he called his brother’s name his voice broke and his hand slid away from his cheek to clench in the younger man’s night shirt. A muffled groan and then bronze eyes blinked slowly, wincing when lightening streaked across the sky again.
“Brother?” Al murmured, sleepy and confused.
“Hey.” Ed managed weakly, relief quickly chased by a feeling of utter foolishness. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, Al sorry to wake you but I was afraid you’d died on me?’ or maybe ‘I thought this was a dream and had to make sure you’re real. Now that I know you are I want nothing more than to kiss you and never let you go.’ Ed almost winced at his own thoughts. He was going mad, that was the only explanation.
“What’s wrong?” Pushing himself up onto his elbows, bronze eyes searched gold, concern evident in his features and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. Now he’d gone and made Alphonse worry. He put on a wide smile, hoping it would reach his eyes.
“Man, Al. Here I was thinking the house was going to come down around us and you’re over here snoring louder than the thunder.” Another crash of thunder rattled the windows as if to illustrate his point. Al smiled sheepishly, though his eyes remained wary and observant.
“Yeah. I sleep like the dead, huh?” The laugh caught in Ed’s throat, coming out as something strangled and harsh. Al bolted upright, not questioning just dragging Ed hard against his chest. The air left him in a rush but he let his brother squeeze him. “You were dreaming again.” It wasn’t a question or an accusation, merely a statement of fact spoken into his shoulder and Ed tried to pull back in surprise but Al’s grip was too strong.
“How’d you know?” The humor he tried to force into his voice was as dull and flat as the light. The younger man hugged him harder, shaking his head, long strands of dark gold skating over his skin.
“You haven’t been sleeping well for weeks.” Ed tensed, extracting himself from his brother’s grip. Worry and another flash of fear wove through him. How had Al known he hadn’t been sleeping? Had he spoken in his sleep? Had he said something or… Ed flushed slightly, remembering the day he’d seen his brother’s beautiful body laid out in pleasure and wondered if it hadn’t just been his sleep hazed mind, if perhaps Al had been watching him.
Of course he had been plagued by nightmares for so many years it was possible that Alphonse didn’t know, didn’t realize the change his dreams had taken as of late. If he had would he really be so willing to pull Edward against him? To manhandle the older brother into laying down beside him on the small bed. Ed resisted but Al’s hands were demanding, forcing him to take the comfort he offered. Thunder rumbled, louder than ever and the storm finally broke over them, the room suddenly filled with the roar of the downpour.
“You know you can tell me, right Brother?” Al said softly, tugging Ed closer, absently petting his hair. “Whatever it is you’re dreaming.” Between the crack of thunder and the rain coming down in solid sheets against the windows he almost hadn’t heard the younger man speak.
Ed closed his eyes, gradually relaxing against his brother’s warmth. Seemingly of its own accord one arm reached out, clinging to Al’s waist, and Edward had to fight not to scramble out of that bed as fast as humanly possible. He wanted nothing more than to be right in that spot, snuggled up to the warm soft body of his brother, basking in the younger man’s love.
It terrified him and he had no idea how to fix it. To stay meant he had to fight against everything he desired, force himself to lay still. But to resist the temptation, remove himself from the threat his own weak self control proved to be would mean hurting Al’s feelings, and what’s more, making the younger man worry more than ever.
Alphonse sighed, the movement of his chest tilting Ed’s face up and he found himself studying his brother’s expression. Exasperation, concern, and just a hint of melancholy. He wished there was something he could say, anything to ease the worry but nothing he could say would be enough. If he didn’t give him a place to start Al would have nothing to push for more.
“I just wish you wouldn’t try to do everything yourself.” Al said on another sigh and Ed winced, looking up at his brother, cheek still pillowed on his shoulder.
“I don’t-“ He started to say in his defense but Al cut him off, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, that’s exactly what you…” His words trailed off, voice fading into a wistful whisper of breath as he turned his head, looking down at Ed from inches away. Time slowed as both brothers stared with wide eyes. Something flickered in the bronze depths of Al’s eyes that kindled a dangerous spark of hope in Edward. He’d done a lot of foolhardy things in his life but this… This could destroy them both.
“They’re just dreams” He said slowly, voice breathier than he’d meant it to be. “They don’t mean anything.” Just who was he trying to convince here? Alphonse nodded tentatively, cheeks flushing even in the cold uneven light. It wasn’t until there was little more than a hair’s breadth between them that Ed realized he’d been moving. Or was it Al who’d closed the distance? All it would take was a particularly deep breath and their lips would touch and yet neither seemed to be able to summon up the courage for that last millimeter.
Another crack of thunder, sharp and deep as a canon, made them both jump and then their mouths crashed together hungry and desperate and neither knowing if this would be their first and only taste of heaven.
Title: Shades of Grey (sequel to No More Yielding but a Dream)
Pairing: Elricest
Word count: 1932
Rating: PG-13? R?
Summary:
Soft warm light on smooth pale skin, dark golden hair splayed around a face still rounded with the clinging remains of childhood. Cheeks flushed and wet lips parted to let out gasping breathy moans. Hands, long fingered and elegant pressed against his chest, trailing lines of heat down his body. The dark fan of eyelashes fluttering open, hazel eyes bright with want in the morning light. Lush pink lips move slightly, the murmur little more than the whisper of a snowflake.
“This isn’t real, Brother.”
Ed gasped, jolted from sleep into awareness. The windows cried out from their frames, the very walls shaking from the force of the thunder barreling its way through the clouds overhead. For a brief, horrifying moment Ed felt his chest seize, breath stolen from his lungs as his mind desperately fought the panic and confusion. Slowly, he forced his body to relax, memory finally righting itself.
It was a dream and nothing more. He slumped against his pillows, eyes closing and forcing his breathing into some semblance of calm. Frustration gnawed at him, drawing an irritated growl from him that the demanding sky echoed. For months now he’d woken to fragments of dreams fed by a stolen moment one morning back in January. He shook his head faintly though he found he could not summon up his usual anger. He was just so tired these days.
A sharp chill hovered in the air, thick and heavy with moisture. His shoulder ached, the cold and damp making the flesh around his auto mail port throb. Even that could not distract him from the guilt. When his nights were not filled with nightmares of his past he was haunted by enticing visions of pale skin and dark gold hair. It made him cringe just to think of it. Yet every dream that left his body achingly unfulfilled was of his brother. His dear sweet innocent little brother.
Part of his mind supplied that Alphonse was not so very innocent, images of his brother’s lithe body arching on his bed erection pulsing in his own hand flashed unbidden through his mind and he once again cursed himself for leaving his towel hanging on the closet door that day. He could’ve ignored the bizarre observations of his subconscious but that scene would not leave his mind.
Thunder growled through the sky again, not quite as earth shaking as the peal that had woken him but potent nonetheless and Edward wondered how long the rain would hold off. He forced his eyes open, and fought away the dark thoughts that always came with the rain. Watching the bare expanse of the ceiling, he slowly counted the seconds until lightening tore through the dark sky, casting harsh shadows across the room. He blinked hard, eyes unwilling to focus after the shock of the bright light. Slowly he turned his head, casting his eyes around the rest of the room.
Grey light did more to lessen the illumination of the room than to brighten it. Cold and hard, the dull light flattened the world into a monotonous two dimensional thing. Color leached from the room, the wood of the doors, the color of the walls, the curtains and bedclothes, all nothing more than shades of grey. Even Alphonse, sprawled on his back, one hand curled on his chest, the other arm dangling off the bed, was pale in the early morning light.
Ed’s stomach lurched as he stared at his brother’s sleeping form. In the early morning light, his face was colorless. His usually pale skin, deathly so in the grey light and in his minds eye Edward could see their mother, lying just like that as the light left her eyes. Gold eyes clenched closed and he took in a gasping breath. It was just a storm, Al was just sleeping, there was nothing to worry about.
Nothing to worry about. It was something he had to remind himself of so frequently that the words had all but lost their meaning. When he opened his eyes again he made himself speak the words, quietly and under his breath so as not to wake his brother, though in truth he desperately wanted to shout them, wrench the younger man from sleep to assure himself that this was not the dream.
Lightening flashed again, accompanied by a whine of thunder high in the clouds, the spark lighting the sky to violet and bathing the room in a flash of blue. Ed’s breath caught painfully in his chest, watching the light play over his brother’s pale skin. So very similar to the light of their failed alchemy all those years ago. Another flicker in the clouds and he was on his feet, crossing the room before he even knew what he was doing.
With a tentative hand he reached out, fingers brushing over Al’s face. Lightening flashed once more and he wondered what was worse, those large expressive eyes wide in fear, or like this, still and void amongst a casket of flannel sheets.
“Al…” his voice was rough with sleep and irrational fear. Al was fine, he really shouldn’t be waking him up. It was probably only barely past dawn. Despite his reasoning there was a something in him that could not let go, that was convinced that this was some terrifyingly marvelous dream and he would wake to blood and pain and nothing but metal and fear once again. “Al.” He murmured more insistently, panic rising like a tide within him when his brother did not respond.
“Alphonse.” The third time he called his brother’s name his voice broke and his hand slid away from his cheek to clench in the younger man’s night shirt. A muffled groan and then bronze eyes blinked slowly, wincing when lightening streaked across the sky again.
“Brother?” Al murmured, sleepy and confused.
“Hey.” Ed managed weakly, relief quickly chased by a feeling of utter foolishness. What was he supposed to say? ‘Hey, Al sorry to wake you but I was afraid you’d died on me?’ or maybe ‘I thought this was a dream and had to make sure you’re real. Now that I know you are I want nothing more than to kiss you and never let you go.’ Ed almost winced at his own thoughts. He was going mad, that was the only explanation.
“What’s wrong?” Pushing himself up onto his elbows, bronze eyes searched gold, concern evident in his features and a fresh wave of guilt washed over him. Now he’d gone and made Alphonse worry. He put on a wide smile, hoping it would reach his eyes.
“Man, Al. Here I was thinking the house was going to come down around us and you’re over here snoring louder than the thunder.” Another crash of thunder rattled the windows as if to illustrate his point. Al smiled sheepishly, though his eyes remained wary and observant.
“Yeah. I sleep like the dead, huh?” The laugh caught in Ed’s throat, coming out as something strangled and harsh. Al bolted upright, not questioning just dragging Ed hard against his chest. The air left him in a rush but he let his brother squeeze him. “You were dreaming again.” It wasn’t a question or an accusation, merely a statement of fact spoken into his shoulder and Ed tried to pull back in surprise but Al’s grip was too strong.
“How’d you know?” The humor he tried to force into his voice was as dull and flat as the light. The younger man hugged him harder, shaking his head, long strands of dark gold skating over his skin.
“You haven’t been sleeping well for weeks.” Ed tensed, extracting himself from his brother’s grip. Worry and another flash of fear wove through him. How had Al known he hadn’t been sleeping? Had he spoken in his sleep? Had he said something or… Ed flushed slightly, remembering the day he’d seen his brother’s beautiful body laid out in pleasure and wondered if it hadn’t just been his sleep hazed mind, if perhaps Al had been watching him.
Of course he had been plagued by nightmares for so many years it was possible that Alphonse didn’t know, didn’t realize the change his dreams had taken as of late. If he had would he really be so willing to pull Edward against him? To manhandle the older brother into laying down beside him on the small bed. Ed resisted but Al’s hands were demanding, forcing him to take the comfort he offered. Thunder rumbled, louder than ever and the storm finally broke over them, the room suddenly filled with the roar of the downpour.
“You know you can tell me, right Brother?” Al said softly, tugging Ed closer, absently petting his hair. “Whatever it is you’re dreaming.” Between the crack of thunder and the rain coming down in solid sheets against the windows he almost hadn’t heard the younger man speak.
Ed closed his eyes, gradually relaxing against his brother’s warmth. Seemingly of its own accord one arm reached out, clinging to Al’s waist, and Edward had to fight not to scramble out of that bed as fast as humanly possible. He wanted nothing more than to be right in that spot, snuggled up to the warm soft body of his brother, basking in the younger man’s love.
It terrified him and he had no idea how to fix it. To stay meant he had to fight against everything he desired, force himself to lay still. But to resist the temptation, remove himself from the threat his own weak self control proved to be would mean hurting Al’s feelings, and what’s more, making the younger man worry more than ever.
Alphonse sighed, the movement of his chest tilting Ed’s face up and he found himself studying his brother’s expression. Exasperation, concern, and just a hint of melancholy. He wished there was something he could say, anything to ease the worry but nothing he could say would be enough. If he didn’t give him a place to start Al would have nothing to push for more.
“I just wish you wouldn’t try to do everything yourself.” Al said on another sigh and Ed winced, looking up at his brother, cheek still pillowed on his shoulder.
“I don’t-“ He started to say in his defense but Al cut him off, rolling his eyes.
“Yes, that’s exactly what you…” His words trailed off, voice fading into a wistful whisper of breath as he turned his head, looking down at Ed from inches away. Time slowed as both brothers stared with wide eyes. Something flickered in the bronze depths of Al’s eyes that kindled a dangerous spark of hope in Edward. He’d done a lot of foolhardy things in his life but this… This could destroy them both.
“They’re just dreams” He said slowly, voice breathier than he’d meant it to be. “They don’t mean anything.” Just who was he trying to convince here? Alphonse nodded tentatively, cheeks flushing even in the cold uneven light. It wasn’t until there was little more than a hair’s breadth between them that Ed realized he’d been moving. Or was it Al who’d closed the distance? All it would take was a particularly deep breath and their lips would touch and yet neither seemed to be able to summon up the courage for that last millimeter.
Another crack of thunder, sharp and deep as a canon, made them both jump and then their mouths crashed together hungry and desperate and neither knowing if this would be their first and only taste of heaven.