FMA Elricest Fanfiction
The title: Stranger
The challenger: hagane_no
The challenge: FMA/Elricest!/I like fluff, angst, sm3x, and romance/I am fond of post!series, but I don't mind pre!series or during!series xD;/Al-pov...
The word count: 692
The rating: PG for brothers kissing like not brothers
The warnings: spoilers up to and including episode 51; completely deviates from what I know of the movie; incest-y; angstastic.
Prequel to Escape.
-------------------
He's a stranger now. A stranger with metal limbs and long blond hair. He has more scars than I can count; he'll stare into nothingness for great lengths of time; he'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He's a stranger whose eyes look like they belong to a man twice his age.
Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to fall in love with him. He wasn't taboo, because he was a stranger. The voice in the back of my mind claiming that the entire thing was fundamentally wrong was so quiet I could barely hear it. This beautiful stranger with the sad eyes couldn't possibly be my brother.
And by the time I found my brother buried under the years of guilt and anger and fighting, it was much too late for me. I had fallen hard for the stranger and discovering my brother's traits in him was endearing.
"Brother, I love you."
"I know, Al, I love you too."
He never understood me. Never understood that I meant something so much more than the unconditional love of brothers. Something deeper than that.
When I kissed him, his eyes went wide. When I told him again, firmly, "Brother, I love you," he did a fair impression of a gaping fish. The silence of that moment carried on for so long that I hung my head. For all he didn't feel like my brother anymore, I should have known better. He was still a blood relative, and anything more between us only existed in my head. Feeling stupid, I muttered an apology and ran.
I stumbled to a stop near the river, where I sat and cried until my eyes were dry, then stared blankly into the water, absently sketching transmutation circles into the dirt. I tried to think of ways to apologize, of ways to make it all seem like a joke. Anything to make sure I didn't lose what I had.
His shadow fell over me, and I knew it was him because it was always him. He always, somehow, would find me, no matter where I went. "Auntie Pinako says dinner's ready. Let's go, Al." He said nothing else, just turned and walked back up the slope. Dejectedly, I followed him home to the Rockbell's. Where else would I go?
Dinner was a strange affair, made stranger by my apparent inability to speak. Every time I tried, my voice caught in my throat. I was so afraid that I'd damaged things beyond repair. So afraid that I'd lose my brother and the stranger in one fell swoop.
I dreaded going to bed that night. We shared a room and I waited for him to say something, convinced he'd want another room; convinced he'd ask me to sleep on the couch. When he didn't, I was relieved. But I lay sleepless in my bed, unnerved. Scared. I stared at the ceiling in the darkness.
"Brother?"
"Yeah, Al?"
I took a deep breath, "Do you hate me?" The words came out as a frightened squeak, despite my attempts at calming myself.
He sat up and I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. They burned. "Never," the word was fierce and I shivered from the force of emotion behind it, "I could never hate you, Al. I just..." he trailed off.
I nodded in the darkness, and sniffled a little louder than I'd intended. I didn't know why I felt like crying. I blinked back the tears angrily, stifled sobs. Despite my efforts, my brother heard me and sighed from across the room, "Come here."
I shuffled across the room, feeling more than anything like a little kid who'd just had a bad dream. The embrace was innocent, my face buried in my brother's flesh shoulder as I finally gave up let myself cry. He murmured reassurances into my hair, calling me an idiot for thinking he'd ever hate me. Telling me that, no matter what happened, he'd always find a way to be there for me.
That night, he was just my brother and nothing more. And, right then, that was enough.
The challenger: hagane_no
The challenge: FMA/Elricest!/I like fluff, angst, sm3x, and romance/I am fond of post!series, but I don't mind pre!series or during!series xD;/Al-pov...
The word count: 692
The rating: PG for brothers kissing like not brothers
The warnings: spoilers up to and including episode 51; completely deviates from what I know of the movie; incest-y; angstastic.
Prequel to Escape.
-------------------
He's a stranger now. A stranger with metal limbs and long blond hair. He has more scars than I can count; he'll stare into nothingness for great lengths of time; he'll wake up screaming in the middle of the night. He's a stranger whose eyes look like they belong to a man twice his age.
Maybe that's why it was so easy for me to fall in love with him. He wasn't taboo, because he was a stranger. The voice in the back of my mind claiming that the entire thing was fundamentally wrong was so quiet I could barely hear it. This beautiful stranger with the sad eyes couldn't possibly be my brother.
And by the time I found my brother buried under the years of guilt and anger and fighting, it was much too late for me. I had fallen hard for the stranger and discovering my brother's traits in him was endearing.
"Brother, I love you."
"I know, Al, I love you too."
He never understood me. Never understood that I meant something so much more than the unconditional love of brothers. Something deeper than that.
When I kissed him, his eyes went wide. When I told him again, firmly, "Brother, I love you," he did a fair impression of a gaping fish. The silence of that moment carried on for so long that I hung my head. For all he didn't feel like my brother anymore, I should have known better. He was still a blood relative, and anything more between us only existed in my head. Feeling stupid, I muttered an apology and ran.
I stumbled to a stop near the river, where I sat and cried until my eyes were dry, then stared blankly into the water, absently sketching transmutation circles into the dirt. I tried to think of ways to apologize, of ways to make it all seem like a joke. Anything to make sure I didn't lose what I had.
His shadow fell over me, and I knew it was him because it was always him. He always, somehow, would find me, no matter where I went. "Auntie Pinako says dinner's ready. Let's go, Al." He said nothing else, just turned and walked back up the slope. Dejectedly, I followed him home to the Rockbell's. Where else would I go?
Dinner was a strange affair, made stranger by my apparent inability to speak. Every time I tried, my voice caught in my throat. I was so afraid that I'd damaged things beyond repair. So afraid that I'd lose my brother and the stranger in one fell swoop.
I dreaded going to bed that night. We shared a room and I waited for him to say something, convinced he'd want another room; convinced he'd ask me to sleep on the couch. When he didn't, I was relieved. But I lay sleepless in my bed, unnerved. Scared. I stared at the ceiling in the darkness.
"Brother?"
"Yeah, Al?"
I took a deep breath, "Do you hate me?" The words came out as a frightened squeak, despite my attempts at calming myself.
He sat up and I could feel his eyes on me from across the room. They burned. "Never," the word was fierce and I shivered from the force of emotion behind it, "I could never hate you, Al. I just..." he trailed off.
I nodded in the darkness, and sniffled a little louder than I'd intended. I didn't know why I felt like crying. I blinked back the tears angrily, stifled sobs. Despite my efforts, my brother heard me and sighed from across the room, "Come here."
I shuffled across the room, feeling more than anything like a little kid who'd just had a bad dream. The embrace was innocent, my face buried in my brother's flesh shoulder as I finally gave up let myself cry. He murmured reassurances into my hair, calling me an idiot for thinking he'd ever hate me. Telling me that, no matter what happened, he'd always find a way to be there for me.
That night, he was just my brother and nothing more. And, right then, that was enough.