Letter Six!
Yea! It's finally out-- chapter six! ^_^ I hope you enjoy! *huggles*
Title: Skeletons
Type: Chapter Fic-- Letter Six
Rating: R (Finally! ^_~)
Pairings: Elricestx2
Warnings: *loud whisper* Sex(ual situations). X3 *does the yaoi!incest dance* And the first appereance of a character that I'm sure you were all waiting for... *GASP!*
Summary: Everyone has skeletons in their closet-- and Edward and Alexander Elric are about to find their grandfather's.
Disclaimer: Ummmmm…
Author’s Note: So much to say and so much to do! I’m working really hard on a bunch of Skeletons related projects, now: fanfics, bonuses, other goodies… but you’re only gonna get to see them if you join the community. ^_~
To be honest, I should probably work on the story as much as I do the extras… but I have so much fun doing the extras, I can’t help myself. X3
Thanks again for all of your support, guys! You ROCK! *huggles*
Please enjoy chapter six!
(WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED R FOR SEX(UAL SITUATIONS). PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.)
XXX
X
X
X
My eighteenth birthday came and went much like every other: same day, same time, same sort of gifts. Mom gave me a certificate for one of my favorite art store; dad got me a new set of paintbrushes; Alex found a set of unusual watercolors; and Rosie, with a smirk a mile wide, presented me with a bottle of Rosewater lotion. She did this in private, thankfully-as even I colored when she added: “Now stop using mine!”
All in all, it was an awesome birthday. The cake was good, the presents were nice, and let’s just say that the after-bed activities were better than the norm- but something was bothering me. It had bothered me throughout the entire day, vanished for a while, then empathically reappeared when Alex curled up beside me and fell asleep.
My dad.
He’d been… staring at me, lately. In an odd way. And not when I’d been doing anything odd to deserve that sort of glare. I mean, if he saw me riding a unicycle while singing the national anthem with a pair of boxers on my head, then I’d expect to get stared at strangely. But no-he’d be gazing at me as if I’d sprouted extra ears while I was doing something as innocent as sketching an apple for art class, humming along to my CD player. It’s… unnerving, to say the least.
Whenever I notice him doing this, I quirk an eyebrow at him questioningly.
In response, he shakes his head-as if trying to clear it-and walks away.
X
X
X
XXX
Skeletons
XXX
Rosalie flatly announced that they were the most disgustingly happy couple she had ever seen.
Which, to be perfectly honest, was rather insulting… for all of those other couples, anyway. Because Edward and Alex, while they were disgustingly happy, prided themselves on how well they managed to hide it.
Generally.
Sure, there had been a few instances they’d rather not discuss-a few ‘close encounters with the parental kind’ that they’d prefer to forget-but for the most part they felt they were suitably sneaky about their taboo trysts. And they were taboo…
Alex felt his cheeks burn as his mind drifted, pulling a comb through his hair. He’d never, not even in his wildest, craziest, most erotic dreams, expected something like this to happen. Not to him, anyway. Not ever. Heck, if someone had told him two weeks ago that he’d be spending a majority of his time making out with his brother in almost any place conceivable-the bedroom, the restroom, the basement, the garage-he would have probably run screaming. But now… well, it was almost second nature. The moment their parents weren’t looking, they were gone-trying to see how far they could get before someone noticed the strange noises coming from the closet.
It was exhilarating; it was exciting… Though whether or not that excitement was a bad thing remained to be seen.
Alexander felt his lips tug upwards in a miniature smile; saw the little grin reflected back at him in the mirror. He set the brush down. “It certainly is exciting,” he murmured to himself, tying back his long, thick locks. They swished noisily in his ears… “And almost too easy.”
After all, nobody anticipated anything going on between them; they were brothers. And, while this was inconvenient at times, it also provided them moments that other couples couldn’t have-and perfectly legitimate excuses to hide behind: “It’s no big deal if I use the bathroom while Al is in there; we used to run around naked when we were little. He’s got nothing I haven’t seen before.” “I can bring Ed’s lunch to play practice. He helped me pass art class last semester; I owe him.” “I’ll take Al to the mall, mom, so you don’t have to worry about driving. It’s fine- I don’t mind. It’s what brothers do.”
Though brothers didn’t usually spend the following hours having sex in the bathtub, kissing in the costume cage, or holding hands in stores full of strangers… but no one suspected that, even if it was happening.
Alexander felt his insides squirm: not, for the first time in years, unpleasantly; but rather, in a happy way… a horny way. He pinked; flipped his ponytail over his shoulder.
“Alex! Alex, aren’t you going grocery shopping?” His mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen, barely able to mask the sound of Rosie and Mr. Elric arguing. The brunette felt his smile widen by inches. “Your brother is waiting in the car!”
“Yeah, mom! I’m coming!” Alexander returned swiftly, trying to sound properly edgy and duly annoyed. He probably failed, but he really didn’t care. Thrusting his wallet into his back pocket, Al flew through the house-departing with a wave of his hand and a kiss on Mrs. Elric’s cheek.
The garage door slammed shut behind him; time slowed to a craw. His heart fluttered.
Edward-already buckled in and waiting- leered at his younger sibling through the Envoy’s windshield; crossing his arms over the rim of the steering wheel and resting his chin upon them.
Alex blushed excitedly.
It really was too easy.
X
September, 1923
Dear Al,
I suppose I don’t really need to bother with this thing anymore. I mean, you’re here, now-beside me as I write this, sleeping peacefully. But I can’t sleep. Maybe that’s why I picked this journal up again: insomnia. Though to be honest, I haven’t tried to sleep since the day you returned. I don’t want to. Because if I close my eyes, you might disappear on me. A silly superstition, I know... You feel real enough, after all-we’ve held each other every night since your return; chattering pointlessly until morning, never straying from the other’s side. We both needed-need- to be sure that this isn’t just a dream… though the possibility of it being so is looking less and less likely, the more we interact. But a part of me remains afraid… a part of me will always remain afraid-from now until the day I die; no matter how much time passes. And so much time has passed, brother-mine. So much…
I don’t know where to start, Al. Ever since you came back, things have been just like they were before. True, we’re staying with Noa; true, we’re not in our own world; but we’re acting as if Amestris and all of our friends are still only a train ride away, and not a million, million miles. We need to talk about that: our isolation. We need to discuss Heiderich and what he did for us.
What he did for me.
…if… If he really was you, Al-this world’s you- does that make me responsible for your death… again? Why can’t I stop hurting you? Hurting him? I didn’t want him to… I tried to stop him…
I should have tried harder.
I’ll never be able to repay him… and I can’t even make myself cry. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I held your hand throughout his funeral; rubbing it in his face. I didn’t mean it like that, but I couldn’t let you go.
Not even long enough to pay proper respect to the one, true friend I had here.
Perhaps I’m a horrible person. That would explain a lot… though it still wouldn’t be a good excuse. I- I just hope that you can forgive me, Heiderich, wherever you are.
As for us, Al-I suppose we’ll have to see where time takes us. Without Heiderich around, I’ve no reason to stay in Munich. And Noa is like the wind; travel is in her blood. Perhaps we should start a new adventure… maybe that would be best for us.
Yet another new beginning; yet another ending story.
-Ed
X
Thank God for tinted car windows, that’s all Alex had to say.
“Ah-!” The boy threw his head back, sweaty bangs sticking to his face as he pulled his brother nearer, lacing his fingers through Edward’s long locks. His movements disturbed the blonde’s loose hair tie… golden tresses spilled everywhere, curtaining Alex’s view. “Ed…ward-!”
Ed groaned in response, shifting his hold. Alexander felt himself arch; spine molding around the velvety upholstery. Plastic supports and hidden metal framework bit into his back- it felt horribly uncomfortable, yet amazing all at once. Whatever blood hadn’t shot to the lower regions of his body dribbled slowly upward; his head tingled as it hung over the back edge of the seat, auburn locks pooling on the floor behind him.
“Brother. . . !” he gasped, feeling his body topple further backwards as Edward attacked his abdomen-kissing his stomach teasingly, as if it were Al’s mouth. Those strong, warm hands firmly held his waist… Alex looped his bare legs around his lover; Ed’s starched jeans chafed Al’s inner thighs almost painfully-the undone teeth of the zipper nipped at the brunette’s tender flesh.
“Alex…” Edward moaned softly, golden eyes ablaze. Their gazes locked; Alexander’s cheeks glowed scarlet, as did his parted lips. He was breathing shallowly now, thick black lashes heavy with pleasure as he finally tumbled the rest of the way-his sweater slithering downward, tugging uncomfortably on the backing of the last line of seats. Alex grunted, his hips still raised and supported by the second row; chin pressed painfully to his chest. His neck was going to be killing him, later…
Ed grinned, clearly enjoying the picture. His fingers danced lazily down Al’s sides, outlining his hips and thighs with a feathery ‘artist touch.’ Alex knew how much his brother loved memorizing him; feeling first-hand how each bone and muscle in Alexander’s body worked. But right now, he really didn’t care-he just wanted the fire in his loins put out. “Ed, please-!” Alex rasped, fisting his hands by his face. His hair was everywhere; tangled between his fingers, cushioning his head, twirling around his limbs… Edward reached out and played with a few strands, kissing the ends. “Brot-!”
He cut himself off with a silent scream, a tear of soreness and satisfaction staining his crimson cheek. At the same moment, the blonde gasped: burying his face in the pliable heat of Alex’s stomach with a whimper of delight. They adjusted… And then the familiar rhythm began once more; a dance that Alexander would be happy to repeat over and over again until his dying day. The younger boy mewled, shivering as he rolled his hips, feeling Edward slide closer-over the back of the seats and down the planes of Al’s body. He balanced himself on his hands, gripping stray clumps of his lover’s silky auburn hair, fists vanishing within the plush cushions.
Their mouths met in a searing embrace…
“Alex-!”
“Ed- aaa-!” Alex yelped mutely as the bands of blistering heat within him snapped; the dark world flashed a bright, ecstasy-filled white. Wave after wave after wave of intensity… they crashed over him, threatening to drag him out into an alien ocean. So many different sensations- he was cramped and sticky and covered in bruises and rug burns, but dammit he had never felt so good.
Still gasping, Alexander wrapped his lead-like arms around his brother’s torso, hugging Edward to him.
They slid completely into the back.
Thump.
A beat of blissful silence passed, full of cuddles and butterfly kisses. Alex giggled, batting at his sibling’s mischievous hands when he tried to tickle Al’s sides. All the while, Edward chuckled, his lips pressed to his brother’s partially exposed throat. “How did we get all the way back here, anyway?” he asked huskily, smirking. Alex could feel his lover’s chest rise and fall rapidly against his own… it was almost enough to make him hard again. Hell, just begin with Ed was invigorating. “I distinctly remember starting this in the driver’s seat.”
“Mmm… dunno,” Alexander murmured, sounding a little sleepy. “It’s all kind of a blur right now…” He laughed, snuggling closer to his elder sibling. It was so soothing… he felt so protected and safe in his arms.
…Yup. Rosie was right. They were disgustingly happy. Or at least disgustingly corny… But Alex couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn either way. Instead, he chose to gratefully accept the baby wipe his brother offered him, mopping up their mess as best he could. He was becoming pretty skilled at using the frigid little scraps of cloth; accustomed to the pungent smell of cheap soap. They used baby wipes pretty often, after all-had even begun hiding packets of them around the house for occasions such as this. They went through them pretty quickly, too… Alex was beginning to wonder if he should buy stock in the baby wipes market.
“You okay, Al?”
Alexander squeaked, pulled quickly from his thoughts. Edward was watching him with concerned eyes, yanking his red hoodie back on. Once his hands were free, he chivalrously offered Al his discarded pants, which had somehow wound up in the vicinity of the trunk. Alex took them with a smile.
“I’m fine,” he assured, jerking on his faded jeans with a little difficulty. They felt so tight against his legs… The boy straightened his sweater with a swift movement of his hands, crumpling up the dirtied cloth which had-seconds before- been pressed to his overheated skin. “The wipes are just cold, that’s all.”
“Mmm.” Edward nodded once-
Before yanking Alex to him, placing him firmly in his lap.
Needless to say, the sudden movement caught Alex by surprise. He squealed, about to protest, but hastily silenced himself when Ed’s arms wrapped around him tenderly, not lustily. Alexander felt his body melt into a bizarre sort of romantic jelly, leaning back into the inviting embrace… Edward affectionately kissed the hollow of his throat. The brunette purred with satisfaction. “Are you okay, brother?” he then asked, lashes fluttering lazily.
The blonde nodded; he could feel Ed’s head move beside his own. “I just… well, forgive my cliché triteness, but I still can’t believe that I’m allowed to touch you like this,” Edward admitted with a faint chortle, squeezing a little tighter. “I mean, you know how wrong this is.”
“Gay incest?”
“Gay pedophilic incest,” the elder teen corrected with a sardonic grin. “You forget that I’m eighteen now, Al.”
“Oh yeah…” Alex couldn’t help but smile, his heart pounding loudly against his ribcage. It was a lovely feeling. “So, essentially, you’re in big trouble if we ever get caught, huh? I sure hope I’m worth it.”
The blonde snorted, pretending to consider this seriously. It took him a few minutes… “Eh,” he finally decided, hands ghosting over Alexander’s excessively sensitive body, making him writhe: bubbling over with giggles. “Probably not.” Edward beamed, eyes as soft as dandelions-moving to press his brother into the bucket seats, straddling him. Their mouths met briefly; Alex too busy laughing to give a proper kiss. “But the sex is good.”
Alexander snickered, gripping his sibling’s wrists in an attempt to stall for time; to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he airily agreed, almost managing to sound nonchalant- despite his stifled pants. “The sex is pretty good… I guess I’ll wait to turn you in to the authorities.”
Ed gawked in mock outrage; his fine flaxen hair tickled Al’s nose, caressing his cheeks in gentle waves. “Gee, thanks,” he drawled, eyes sparkling wickedly. “I appreciate that, brother-mine.”
They both smiled-Edward rested his head on Alexander’s chest, closing his eyes.
A pause.
“…you know I love you, right?” Ed mumbled; so soft and so sudden that Alex nearly missed it. “I love you more than anything.”
The brunette smiled, idly twirling a lock of sun-colored hair around his finger. “More than the sex?” He tried to sound surprised, feigning shock. But Edward didn’t laugh this time; instead, he felt his brother’s lips tighten in a solemn frown.
“I’m being serious here, Alexander.” Long fingers found a loose handful of sweater and clutched it, refusing to let go. “I love you…”
Alex blushed beautifully.
“…I know, Ed,” he whispered, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut. The car smelt of sex and sweat and baby wipes… heat crushed their bodies in soundless surges of pressure. He could hear people bustling outside; carts rattling in the parking lot. Nobody had parked beside them, thank goodness-they had chosen the furthest space from the store for just that reason. Still, the closeness of the world was intoxicating; thrilling; dangerous… they were committing a horrible sin right underneath society’s big, fat nose- in the parking lot of Pick’n Save, no less.
Alex, for the first time in his life, felt completely content.
“I love you, too, brother… much, much more than I should.”
X
May, 1926
Dear Al,
I have to say, I hope they (re)invent automobiles, here. I miss the cars in Amestris. Trains are nice, and I suppose horse-drawn carts are good if you want some air, but there’s something to be said for private, cushioned travel.
Of course, when I said this, you just told me to be thankful that we could afford train tickets and horse-drawn carts; the depression has gone on for so long, we were lucky to still have that. And walking would have been God-awful, I admit. But so was Germany as a whole.
I decided it was time for a change of pace.
You agreed with this; so did Noa. Just wandering Germany was rather dull-we couldn’t find that bomb, either. You said that we should expand our search to other countries. Noa suggested France; I thought we should try some place a little further up north. (Wouldn’t that be the geological equivalent to that maniac’s castle?)
But you’re the one who keeps track of money, so you’re the one who gets to decide. And you always seemed keen on experiencing a boat ride… which might explain why we’re now on a slimy ship deck, watching Europe’s coastline vanish into the mist. Noa is ecstatic, scurrying from level to level, speaking swiftly to the immigrants around her. I see you watching her oddly; probably because you have yet to master German. I usually have to play translator for you, even for things as simple as asking Noa where she’s going.
I don’t mind, though. In fact, I’m almost glad; it gives me an excuse to speak my native tongue with someone else again- something that feels so good I can hardly begin to describe it. Noa knows a bit of the language, now; she agrees that it sounds much like English, which she’s heard spoken at the carnivals the gypsies she used to travel with had haunted.
Speaking of which, many of the sailors on this ship seem to speak it, too… I wonder where this boat is headed? I should ask you…
Shit, gotta go-you’re headed this way, and I don’t want you to see this journal. (Though I don’t know why; I wrote this for you.)
-Ed
X
Everyone knew that Edward was an amazing actor. He had starred in the majority of the district’s plays and musicals, had won countless awards both in and out of the school for his dramatic exploits, had been an active member of the drama department since middle school, and had only lost in the running for Thespian Club president because he was admittedly too lazy to take on the responsibilities that being president would entail. Yes, like many things, acting came easily to Ed.
Personally, Alex had never been all that interested in theatre. He didn’t really know the other kids involved, for one; for another, he had never thought he’d be exceptionally good. But it had been a month of surprises… and to his very great shock, he’d been wrong.
Perhaps he should go for a formal audition some day.
“I can’t believe you, Ed!” Alexander snapped, barreling into the kitchen with a stormy scowl on his face. In his arms he held a crumpled grocery bag-cans and jars jostled noisily inside of it. Their mother, who had clearly been in the process of calling Ed’s cell phone, gave a start; blinking up at her fuming son. “An hour. Your stupidity wasted an HOUR!”
Edward-who was easing himself through the door, as well-glared furiously over the top of two more paper sacks. “MY stupidity?” he growled, cheeks red with anger. “Excuse ME, Al, but I do believe it was YOU who insisted on trying that new grocery store. It’s not MY fault we got lost.”
Alex graced his brother an exasperated stare, pulling a peach from one of the brown bags and chucking it at Ed. It bounced with a squishy-sounding thump off of his older sibling’s forehead, rolling into the corner once it hit the floor. “Don’t even start! If you had followed the directions I’d given you-!”
“Edward! Alex!” Teri Elric stood with a clatter, holding out her hands in an attempt to separate her battling boys. “Stop it! I don’t want to hear another word. You’re back home now and that’s all that matters. Alex, why don’t you go finish your homework? Edward, you can help me put these away.”
Both teens hung their heads, avoiding their mother’s eyes-if only to keep from laughing. “Yes, mom,” they chorused monotonously; coldly. However, once she’d turned away, Ed readily winked, brushing his hand against Alex’s.
Al turned pink.
Then he spun away with an overdramatic and laborious sigh, grumbling curses under his breath as he followed his mother’s orders. Teri twisted back to face her sons at that moment, blowing out her cheeks as she watched Alex leave. Shaking her head; short, wavy hair rustling; she finally allowed a small smile to grow on her lips. “…so Edward, tell me honestly,” she abruptly demanded, chuckling; wiping her hands off on a spare towel, “did you really get lost, or did you pretend to just to tease him?”
Ed, who didn’t believe in being any more dishonest then necessary, simply smirked. That was all the answer his mom was looking for, anyway. As he predicted, she gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, but didn’t appear angry. “Oh, Edward,” the woman sighed, though with a hint of good humor. (This didn’t surprise her son either; as the saying went, you have to either laugh or cry, and Mrs. Elric preferred laughing.) “You’re going to drive that poor boy crazy with your teasing…”
The blonde quickly busied himself with some conveniently placed cans and boxes, trying not to snicker. It wouldn’t be fun to explain the punch line to that joke… “I didn’t mean to make him mad, mom,” he insisted half-heartedly, tossing some fruit into the bowl on top of the kitchen counter. “I was just having some fun.” ‘A lot of fun…’
A snort. “I’m sure. Well…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect this sort of behavior from you two,” his mother retorted wryly, placing a few boxed cake mixes in the cupboards. “You are teenage boys… but I’d rather you didn’t tear each other apart, all right? And really, cut Alex some slack. He’s been going through a lot, recently.”
Edward was having a great deal of difficulty, now, trying to keep his lips from breaking into a wide, toothy grin. Though a part of him-most of him, really-was terrified that his mother might have uncovered some sort of clue as to what was really going on between them… she was so hopelessly and entirely naïve that the whole situation seemed somewhat funny at times. Like now. Which was a bad thing, for sure: nothing about this was funny-nothing at all. And yet…
“Don’t worry, mom,” the teen soothed with an easy smile, sliding out of his hooded sweatshirt and pulling his paint-drenched lab coat from the coat rack in the corner, “I won’t tear him apart… or, at least, I’ll do my best to restrain myself.”
Teri beamed appreciatively, her gray eyes sparkling. “That’s all I ask. Thanks for doing the shopping.”
“No problem,” Edward returned with a wave of his hand, fixing his bound hair. He casually tightened the elastic tie, just to make sure the ponytail was tight… “Now, if you excuse me, I have a painting I’d like to try and fini-”
But before he had a chance to leave the kitchen, someone else appeared in the doorway, blocking it. A large someone-the one person in the house as tall as him. That person paused upon noticing him, fixing his glasses, then grinned. “Ah, Edward… just who I was looking for.”
Ed’s smile instinctively slipped half a notch. “Hi, dad,” he greeted-not cautiously, but with an air of trepidation. To be perfect honest, his father had always scared him slightly… a lot more, now that he had something important to hide. “What can I do for you?”
Mrs. Elric cleared her throat, suddenly fascinated by the dirty dishes in the sink. The blonde cast her a dark look from over his shoulder; she was in on this, too. That could only mean one thing… ‘Crap…’
“Dad-” he began with an irritated sigh, but was silenced by his father lifting his index finger meaningfully.
“I know you think you know what I’m going to say, Ed,” Mr. Elric interrupted with a toothy beam, clearly excited by whatever it was he had to announce, “but hear me out anyway. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Ross’s daughter, Sarah-you remember her, right?- her school is having a dance next weekend, and she really likes you, Edwa-”
The blonde teen shook his head resolutely, mouth drawn down in a tight scowl. “Dad, we’ve been over this,” Edward ground out, stuffing his hands in his pockets so that his parents wouldn’t see his clenched fists. “I’m not interested in her.”
Benjamin Elric frowned. “I don’t understand why,” he retorted sternly, rubbing his neatly trimmed beard. “She’s a lovely girl-pretty, sweet, and enjoys arts and crafts nearly as much as you.”
Ed stiffened at the phrase ‘arts and crafts.’ ‘What am I, a preschooler?’ “I just didn’t like her, Dad,” he grumbled, trying to bypass his father on his way out of the kitchen-but he was easily intercepted by a well placed arm.
“Edward,” Mr. Elric began again, trying to sound less frustrated than he really was. “I appreciate how much time you dedicate to your work, and I’m thankful that you’re so serious about school. But it’s okay to go out on dates and have fun, too. You know that, right? I’m only trying to help you find a nice girlfriend… I can’t imagine why you don’t have one already. You’re smart, decent, talented, and- except for that hair- good-looking…”
Ed glowered, moving away when his father attempted to place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just not interested right now, Dad,” he snapped, feeling his eyebrow give a warning tick. “I’d rather focus on college- and I’m sick of telling you that. So can we please let this drop?” He stormed past the moment Benjamin hesitated.
The grown man furrowed his brow. “But what abou-?”
“Sarah can find her own date!” Edward hollered acidly, slamming the basement door shut with all the force of an earthquake. Mr. Elric winced, grabbing a trembling picture before it toppled off the wall.
Teri didn’t even look up. Instead, she smiled and snapped the dishwasher shut, wiping her sodden hands off on a dishrag. “…that went well.”
Benjamin simply sighed.
X
August, 1927
Dear Al,
Has it really been so long since I last wrote? It’s hard to believe… it feels like we boarded that rusty old ship yesterday. But no… it was over a year ago, and time just kept moving along.
So did Noa, incidentally. After we landed in New York, she left us for a group of fellow gypsies. Though I suppose that makes her sound flakier than she really was… she didn’t mean her departure to be taken as an insult. But she missed her culture and her people, and was finally ready to accept this world as her home.
I was-am- happy for her. I’m glad that she finally found her place, just as I found mine. By your side. And your place is by me. Perhaps Noa saw that, as well, and knew that she would never be completely welcome in our world.
Either way, there were no hard feelings-just a heartfelt goodbye. We still get letters from her, sometimes. When her postcards find us.
However, we weren’t alone for long. After we passed through Ellis Island (I hate that place, by the way, and am NEVER GOING BACK), we ran-quite literally-into a familiar-faced stranger.
Winry.
Only she isn’t Winry anymore. Her name is Annya. You had been chasing a stray kitten down a side road; she had tripped on the unfamiliar cobbled streets. Your bodies collided with a crash that frightened all the nearby horses and sent reams of paper flying.
She yelled-cursed and screamed in a language I didn’t recognize at the time, but learnt later to be Russian. Still, I knew enough body language to realize that she was going to beat us to a bloody pulp if we didn’t help her collect her things. So we did. Quickly.
An hour later, we all sat-panting and irritated-on the curb, watching carriages rattle past. She was annoyed because all of her documents had been covered in mud and horse hooves. You tried to read one of the papers, but couldn’t despiser any of the words… and so, always the gentleman, you asked her politely what they were. Thankfully, she spoke English. At least enough to get by.
“They are stories,” she replied curtly, snatching the papers back. Her ragged dress ruffled as she did so; fingerless gloves covered in grime that had been present long before the afternoon’s ordeal. You seemed to notice her scruffy appearance as well, horrified by how skinny she was. “But they are not good. I could not find good ones in the Soviet Union. So I decided to come here to find some.”
My response was something along the lines of: “You came all the way to America by yourself to write stories?” She couldn’t have been more than 13. (She wasn’t. She was 12.)
Annya flushed prettily at my remark, but her wide blue eyes grew deeply sad. And in an instant, I knew. We both knew. Still, we were quiet and allowed her to tell us how she had been orphaned by the Great War, and how her grandmother, who she had lived with after the fact, had recently died of influenza. Why she was so open with the information, I’m still not sure-maybe she was just grateful that someone cared. It didn’t look like she’d been with people who cared about her for a long time.
Maybe it was because she looked like Winry. Maybe it was because we’re just a pair of saps. Maybe it’s because she needed us-she was only a child. I don’t know; you sure as hell didn’t. But something made us take her hands-like we used to take Winry’s when we were little-and lead her towards an outdoor café, with the promise of an excellent story.
Our story.
We didn’t tell her everything, of course. Just the first snippet-about Resembool, about mom. About alchemy. She didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but she ate it up nearly as hungrily as she did the sandwich we bought her. And when we stopped speaking, she demanded to hear more.
Heck, she refused to leave until she’d heard more. She wanted to hear the whole story-but really, we weren’t ready to tell it.
So we took her with us. Rather, she followed us, and we let her. We couldn’t just turn her away…
And so, here we are. Living in New York, in The Land of Dreams. At least, that’s the name you told me, Al. Personally, I think it’s more like the-land-of-noisy-bastards-and-arrogant-jerks, but that could be true of anywhere. We live in a tiny apartment in the slums-where wet laundry is always flapping in the wind, and rusty fire escapes decorate the crumbling stone buildings. The plunking music of Tin Pan Alley serenades us all day and night, as do the yowls of the three cats you somehow persuaded me into letting you keep. Annya is almost like a cat, too; always pawing around, curious about everything, eyes open for a story. She keeps paper everywhere, and is always jotting down notes. I’m almost afraid to light a fire in the kitchen, for fear I might scorch one of her manuscripts. (The pen IS mightier then the sword when it comes to Annya.) As for you, Al-you’re always encouraging her; helping her with her English when you’re not busy at work. Currently, you’re working down at the docks-but that job will probably only last until the end of the summer. Then you’ll have to find a new one. Thankfully, I found a somewhat-steady job down at a bar… though I’ve been hearing talk about a prohibition act. I should probably start applying for some sort of desk job.
All in all, life is…
… I don’t really know. We’ve been so busy just living, I haven’t really thought about it. I think I’m happy, though. I think you are, too. We’re together, at least, and that’s all that matters. We’re safe; our secrets kept. (Though sometimes I think Annya wonders about the ‘noises’ she hears in our room.) So… I think we’re okay. And we’re going to stay okay. In which case, I should probably show you this notebook. Your birthday is coming up; maybe I’ll give it to you, then. After all, you’re still here-this isn’t a dream (despite America’s popular second name)… there’s no reason for me to write in this anymore.
…All right, I’m fooling myself. This really has become a journal of sorts… I’m recording time that passes, aren’t I, and the events that shape us. That would constitute… you know…
But I am writing this for you. So that, just in case you ever lose your memories again-(I still can’t believe that damn Gate stole your memories! Wasn’t tearing us apart enough? I mean, come-fucking-on-!)- you’ll have some sort of record of what has happened to us in this world.
So it’s really still more of a travel log, okay? (NOT A DIARY, ALL RIGHT, ANNYA? YOU CAN STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER, NOW.)
I’ve got to go start dinner.
-Ed
X
“Ed, what’s wrong?”
Edward straightened, startled by the unexpected question. “Wrong…?” He repeated blankly, blinking down at his brother. “Nothing… why?”
Alex pouted, glaring weakly at his older sibling. “Don’t lie to me,” he huffed, disentangling his arms from around Ed’s neck. This was quite the task, seeing as how his pajama sleeves were three inches longer than necessary on either side, and the spare cloth had a tendency to knot. Still, he did so with a certain grace; crossing his arms tightly over his chest to show his growing disapproval. “You haven’t been here all night-your mind is a million miles away.”
“Not true,” Ed protested, albeit a bit weakly, pressing his palms flat to the flannel fabric covering Alexander’s thighs. “I’ve been as alert as a hawk.”
Al scoffed, shifting on Edward’s stool. They had propped it up against the wall in the corner of the basement, behind a few messy bookshelves and art-covered tables. He kicked his dangling feet. “Sure you have… what’s the last thing we were discussing?”
Were they discussing something?
The brunette blew out his cheeks, running his fingers through his loose hair. He’d begun wearing it down more often, because Ed had told him it made him look adorable. “Brother,” he tried again, more gently this time-reaching out with his sleeve-covered hands to touch his elder sibling’s face, “what’s the matter? Talk to me…”
“…” Edward deflated, falling forward to rest his forehead against Alexander’s shoulder. The delicate curve of the younger teen’s collar bone was delightfully noticeable beneath the fuzzy softness of his pajamas; the blonde’s pale fingers found Alex’s forearms, hidden beneath seas of polka dotted fabric. He breathed in deeply. The younger boy smelt sweet, like vanilla-warm and wet from his recent shower. “…it wasn’t anything important,” Ed assured softly, nearly purring when Al wrapped his arms around him, trying to pull his lover closer. Alex seemed so tiny; petite… even smaller in those PJs. The sight filled Edward with a strange desire to protect him, though he knew perfectly well that Alexander could fend for himself. The thought made him smile. “Dad was just being stupid.”
“How so?” Alex pressed lightly, resting his cheek upon Ed’s crown. He used his palms to smooth down his elder’s sibling’s hair. Edward hummed contentedly.
“He’s trying to find me a girlfriend,” he mumbled, nuzzling closer to show his affection. And though it came as no surprise that Alexander stiffened upon processing this announcement, the blonde still frowned; pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Al’s chin. “Don’t worry, it’s happened before… he’s been trying to set me up with coworkers’ kids since I was 15. It’s just annoying, you know? Being told that I’m abnormal for not having a girlfriend, even though I’m 18…”
“I don’t think he feels it’s abnormal because you’re 18,” Alex returned flatly, though there was a hint of a smirk in his voice. “I think he feels it’s abnormal because you’re freaking hot.”
Ed grunted. “Yeah, I think he mentioned that, too… whatever. He’s probably just noticed that I’ve never dated anyone and needs to see me with a girl to calm his nerves. Otherwise, he might begin to think that I’m gay.”
“You? Gay?” Alex was definitely grinning, now. “I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous. You’re as straight as a circle.”
“Shut up,” Edward laughed softly, jokingly poking his brother in the ribs. At the same time, Alexander could feel Ed’s lips quirk upward against his throat; the movement caused a pleasant prickling sensation to ripple through him. “You’re certainly one to talk, you little hypocrite.”
Alex giggled a few seconds longer, tightening his hold around his older sibling. The heat of Edward’s body felt so good; so reassuring… “…you’re sure it’s nothing serious, right?” Alex inquired, sounding a slightly nervous as the light-hearted moment faded away. “Dad doesn’t think…? He doesn’t know…?”
The blonde shook his head, squeezing his arms through the gap between the small of Alexander’s back and the cold cement wall, pulling his brother nearer. “No,” he stated quietly. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t plan on letting him know. As for whatever girl he chooses to push on me-”
“I don’t want to see you dating anyone,” Alex interrupted fretfully, starting to sound panicked. His thin fingers tightened, as if afraid Ed might drift away. “Please-”
“Don’t worry,” the blonde soothed, unable to swallow a tender chuckle. “That’s not what I was going to say. What I was going to say was that I’ll just keep tell him that I’m not interested in girls right now; I’m too busy focusing on college. Eventually he’ll drop it. It’s worked before; it’ll work again. All right?”
Not really-it was still risky. And the more Edward refused, the more suspicious things were going to look… but really, what choice did they have? Alexander forced himself to smile, though he remained looking somewhat anxious. “Okay… you promise?”
“If you promise not to worry.”
“You know I can’t promise that,” the brunette allowed himself a dry grin, rubbing noses with his boyfriend. “But I’ll promise to try…”
Ed smiled-that beautiful, adoration-filled smile that made Alexander’s heart melt and his insides squirm with giddiness. “Good enough,” he agreed, pulling Alex down into a deceptively gentle kiss.
Neither rose again for another hour.
X
June, 1928
Dear Al,
Technology is amazing.
Today we went and saw a “Talkie”-a moving picture reel with words and sound. At first, I thought it might be alchemy at work; I didn’t know science could do anything like that. Annya told me I was stupid (her English just keeps getting better and better); they’ve been talking all about this Edison character in the papers. Apparently, he’s invented a lot. I wonder if he has an equivalent in Amestris? I bet Winry would like Talkies as much as Annya did-despite her sarcastic remarks, I haven’t seen her more excited since the day you took her to Central Park, Al. (You spoil her, by the way. She did not need that new dress, even if she does look incredibly cute in it.)
In other news, people have been talking less and less about America being the “land of dreams” and more and more about the times. “The Roaring Twenties,” I believe is the proper term. I’ve always thought it was roaring-the noise level has yet to die down.
I’ll write more later. I need to go feed your damn cats. You owe me in Equivalent Exchange for this, I hope you know.
-Ed
X
According to Alex’s pocket dictionary, “eventually” meant “in due time.” A simple enough translation… However, what he really wanted to know was how long “in due time” planned on amounting to. It had already been two weeks, and their father had yet to relent in his “cupidic” endeavors. In fact, he’d only grown more persistent- he didn’t even bother trying to hide his matchmaking tendencies anymore; it was a family affair.
“Really, Edward,” Benjamin exclaimed over Sunday morning breakfast-the one event the Elrics were still forced to endure together. Pancakes and French toast… Edward used to hate family breakfasts because the smell of French toast made him gag; now he dreaded the gathering for new and entirely more hellish reasons. “You should at least get to know Danielle before you come to a decision. Her father tells me she adores you…”
“Dad, I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” Ed all but snarled, pushing his dissected pancakes around and around his syrup drenched plate. He felt like screaming… or attacking his father with his fork; two urges which would probably be frowned upon by the rest of the family. (Well, at least by his mother. Rosie looked ready to back him up with her cereal spoon.) “Can’t I be allowed to date who I want?”
Beneath the table, Edward felt Alex’s left foot brush his right; twining silently around his brother’s ankle. He cast his younger sibling a subtle sideways glance, but Alexander had yet to look up from his plate. Regardless, the gesture was understood, and Ed felt himself begin to calm down.
Though not quickly enough.
“Of course,” Mr. Elric chuckled robustly, cutting a careful square of French toast and popping it into his mouth. “I’m not trying to force a girl on you, son. I only want to see you out on the field a little, you know? You’re always so preoccupied with your projects… don’t you think your brother should start dating, Alex?”
Alex, understandably startled, choked on an apple slice, sliding both feet away from his brother’s. (Edward’s already sour expression darkened further.) “I, um… yeah, I guess so,” the younger boy finally stuttered, nose wrinkling in distaste. “But really, Dad, I don’t blame him for not wanting to… most of the girls at are school are idiots.”
“Hey,” Rosalie grumbled unenthusiastically, half-asleep. Nine A.M. was too early to do anything… “I’m one of those girls, you know.”
“That’s why I said ‘most,’” Alexander repeated, dragging a finger around the rim of his apple juice glass. His mother shot him a reproving look; he grudgingly stopped. “But it doesn’t matter, Rosie-Edward can’t date you.”
The teenage girl’s lips unfurled in a languidly beam. “I suppose that’s true,” she agreed in an excessively blasé voice. “Me being family and all.”
Edward and Alex both shot her frosty glares.
“By the way, Daddy,” Rosie continued, undaunted by the scowls on her brothers’ faces; twirling a knife between her bejeweled fingers, “with all this work you’re putting into Ed’s love life… are you gonna try to find me a boyfriend?”
Benjamin snorted, sprinkling powdered sugar over his French toast. “Absolutely not-you’re too young to date, baby girl.”
Instantaneously, Rosie’s face mutated into a glower, narrowing her lined eyes. “That’s pretty sexist of you, Dad,” she quipped, crossing one leg over the other and resting her chin in a palm. Classic Rosalie fighting stance… It took Alex a minute to realize that she was purposely-and successfully-trying to distract their father from the matter at hand.
He had never loved her more than he had at that moment.
“Why is everything I do sexist?” their father grumbled, sounding irate. “I don’t mean to say that you can never date… I just don’t think you’re old enough yet, Rosie. You’re only 14, and-well, you have a bit of a wild side. I don’t want to see anything bad happening to you, like… you know…”
“Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll?” Rosie filled in flippantly, her glossed lips pulling back in a feral grin. “C’mon, Dad. Can you honestly see me doing the nasty with a bunch of guys before marriage?”
Nobody answered that. Rosalie’s forehead furrowed in true anger.
“Thanks for all the support,” she drawled, clearly offended. “And here I thought my own family knew me… I am not that bad! I would never have sex before marriage or some other legally-binding commitment ceremony.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust you, honey,” Teri put in gently, taking a sip of milk. “Your father and I just don’t think you’re quite as mature as your brother, yet.”
“Not true…” Rosie grunted, frightfully mad now. Not that any of this dating-stuff affected her; with Rosalie, it was always ‘the principle of the issue.’ And she didn’t like losing, even when she wasn’t in the race. “You just don’t think he has a sex drive…”
Alexander choked on air, trying not to blush. Edward just looked annoyed. “I’m right here, you know,” he reminded sarcastically, leaning back in his chair with a look of pure irritation on his face. “And I don’t appreciate the family discussion of my sex life…”
“Which I’m sure is non-existent,” Mr. Elric stated confidently. (Alex was having a little trouble breathing now- coughing meaningfully into a napkin.) “I’m not encouraging any of you to go have sex. Sex comes after marriage and no sooner. I’d just like to see Ed get out and meet new people-”
“-of the female persuasion-”
“-so that he knows what to look for in a future wife,” Benjamin finished, ignoring Rosalie’s silent rant on how much a bigot he was. “In fact, I should start asking around for you, too, Alex. You’re ready, I think; definitely responsible. Why not try again with Zena, now that you’re both a little older?”
Alexander’s flushed cheeks paled. ‘Crud…’ “Dad, I…”
“He’s already got a girlfriend,” Edward announced, standing with a clatter of food-filled plates and a half-drunk glass. All eyes snapped upon him. Ed grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Al, I know I promised I wouldn’t tell, but it looks like Dad won’t be mad…”
Alex blinked vacantly at him; he thought his heart had stopped for a moment. “Brother…”
“Is that true?” Mr. Elric excitedly inquired, without bothering to wait for an answer. Which was good, since Al didn’t give one… but he did nearly buckle over in pain when his father clapped him happily on the back. “That’s fantastic, Alex! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I…” Alexander floundered, completely lost. ‘What just happened here?’
But again, their father didn’t even pause- throwing a wide grin in Edward’s direction. Ed was (rather determinedly) not paying attention to this; his back to the table as he scrubbed his dishes down in a spray of cold water. “See now, son? It can’t be so hard to get a girl if Alexander here can. You know how shy he gets, after all…” Alex was pretty sure he should feel offended by this, but he was too mystified to care. ‘What’s Ed trying to pull-? Does he want to end it…?’ “Why don’t I give Danielle’s parents a call, eh? You’re free tonight, ri-?”
CRASH!
The sudsy tableware slammed into the dishwasher with enough strength to shatter stones; the entire family jumped in shock, turning towards Edward with wide eyes. He was clutched the rim of the sink with trembling fingers, right eyebrow twitching dangerously.
Alex felt his stomach clench. ‘Don’t do anything stupid, Brother-!’
Whether or not Ed heard Al’s silent plea could not be determined. However, he did attempt to compose himself: taking a deep breath, flicking his golden eyes over Benjamin’s startled face. “…all right, Dad,” he bit out, voice sounding strangely tight. Alex and Rosie cast each other dismayed glances; something wasn’t right. “You know what? I give up. I don’t know how I can make this any clearer, so I’ll give it to you straight: I’M NOT.”
“…” Mr. Elric blinked blankly at him, visibly puzzled. “…Excuse me?”
“I’m not interested in girls, Dad,” Edward spat, slamming a fist against the counter. Alexander and Rosalie jumped a second time; their parents simply stared. “I wasn’t interested in them yesterday, I’m not interested in them today, and I’m not going to be interested in them tomorrow. I’m gay. Always have been, always will be.”
He tried to grin, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “…That’s just the way I am.”
Alex’s insides disappeared-as did, it seemed, their father’s. He sat there, gaping… His wife didn’t seem any more stable; torn between alarm and astonishment. Rosie, on the other hand, knew exactly how she felt: panicked; casting Edward a look which plainly screamed ‘what the fuck are you doing, you idiot!’
But she didn’t say it.
There was only silence.
X
December, 1929
Dear Al,
I’ve decided that we are a curse. We must be, with the amount of shit that trails behind us. Shit like depression. Depression seems to follow us everywhere. And not just the emotional kind, haha. No…
The stock market crashed in October. They’re calling it the “Great” Depression. The one in Germany was very much like this… Only this time, we can’t just run away. We’re broke. Not as broke as most families, thankfully, but money is tight. I lost my job at the bar-that damn prohibition act passed. Then again, even if it hadn’t, I would have lost it anyway. Everyone has been losing their jobs… well, most everyone. I have a few higher-classed friends-you get to know a lot of people through alcohol- and they’ve managed to secure us some work. Not much, but enough to live on.
Annya has helped as much as she can: she’s sold her extra dresses and toys, sacrificed her precious paper for the furnace; she even offered to go work in the factories. I wouldn’t hear of it, though-I’ve seen what they do to kids there. So instead, she takes care of the house while we work. As payment, we tell her more of our story. Since she can’t write it down anymore, she memorizes it instead- even composes music to it and hums it while she works, so as to commit it to memory. It’s kind of disturbing, really, hearing chapters of your life being sung by your surrogate daughter while she cleans out the oven. But it’s cute, too. You’ve started calling her our little Ziegfeld Folly. Even she laughs when you do.
…It’s nice… to still be able to laugh. It’s comforting, really, to know that we’re not that far gone; that we can keep moving forward, no matter how bleak things seem.
There may be hard times are ahead of us, Alphonse, but I’m sure we can get through them together.
-Ed
XXX
Dun dun DAAAAA! Cliffhanger! EEEEK! *Runs screaming from readers.*
Remember, if you kill me, I can’t update! *hides*
(PS. I did the calculations, in case anyone was wondering-at the time they meet Annya, Ed is 22 and Al is (physically) 17. Annya, as stated before, is 12.
Just so you know.
Yup.
*goes back to hiding*)
Title: Skeletons
Type: Chapter Fic-- Letter Six
Rating: R (Finally! ^_~)
Pairings: Elricestx2
Warnings: *loud whisper* Sex(ual situations). X3 *does the yaoi!incest dance* And the first appereance of a character that I'm sure you were all waiting for... *GASP!*
Summary: Everyone has skeletons in their closet-- and Edward and Alexander Elric are about to find their grandfather's.
Disclaimer: Ummmmm…
Author’s Note: So much to say and so much to do! I’m working really hard on a bunch of Skeletons related projects, now: fanfics, bonuses, other goodies… but you’re only gonna get to see them if you join the community. ^_~
To be honest, I should probably work on the story as much as I do the extras… but I have so much fun doing the extras, I can’t help myself. X3
Thanks again for all of your support, guys! You ROCK! *huggles*
Please enjoy chapter six!
(WARNING: THIS CHAPTER IS RATED R FOR SEX(UAL SITUATIONS). PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.)
XXX
X
X
X
My eighteenth birthday came and went much like every other: same day, same time, same sort of gifts. Mom gave me a certificate for one of my favorite art store; dad got me a new set of paintbrushes; Alex found a set of unusual watercolors; and Rosie, with a smirk a mile wide, presented me with a bottle of Rosewater lotion. She did this in private, thankfully-as even I colored when she added: “Now stop using mine!”
All in all, it was an awesome birthday. The cake was good, the presents were nice, and let’s just say that the after-bed activities were better than the norm- but something was bothering me. It had bothered me throughout the entire day, vanished for a while, then empathically reappeared when Alex curled up beside me and fell asleep.
My dad.
He’d been… staring at me, lately. In an odd way. And not when I’d been doing anything odd to deserve that sort of glare. I mean, if he saw me riding a unicycle while singing the national anthem with a pair of boxers on my head, then I’d expect to get stared at strangely. But no-he’d be gazing at me as if I’d sprouted extra ears while I was doing something as innocent as sketching an apple for art class, humming along to my CD player. It’s… unnerving, to say the least.
Whenever I notice him doing this, I quirk an eyebrow at him questioningly.
In response, he shakes his head-as if trying to clear it-and walks away.
X
X
X
XXX
Skeletons
XXX
Rosalie flatly announced that they were the most disgustingly happy couple she had ever seen.
Which, to be perfectly honest, was rather insulting… for all of those other couples, anyway. Because Edward and Alex, while they were disgustingly happy, prided themselves on how well they managed to hide it.
Generally.
Sure, there had been a few instances they’d rather not discuss-a few ‘close encounters with the parental kind’ that they’d prefer to forget-but for the most part they felt they were suitably sneaky about their taboo trysts. And they were taboo…
Alex felt his cheeks burn as his mind drifted, pulling a comb through his hair. He’d never, not even in his wildest, craziest, most erotic dreams, expected something like this to happen. Not to him, anyway. Not ever. Heck, if someone had told him two weeks ago that he’d be spending a majority of his time making out with his brother in almost any place conceivable-the bedroom, the restroom, the basement, the garage-he would have probably run screaming. But now… well, it was almost second nature. The moment their parents weren’t looking, they were gone-trying to see how far they could get before someone noticed the strange noises coming from the closet.
It was exhilarating; it was exciting… Though whether or not that excitement was a bad thing remained to be seen.
Alexander felt his lips tug upwards in a miniature smile; saw the little grin reflected back at him in the mirror. He set the brush down. “It certainly is exciting,” he murmured to himself, tying back his long, thick locks. They swished noisily in his ears… “And almost too easy.”
After all, nobody anticipated anything going on between them; they were brothers. And, while this was inconvenient at times, it also provided them moments that other couples couldn’t have-and perfectly legitimate excuses to hide behind: “It’s no big deal if I use the bathroom while Al is in there; we used to run around naked when we were little. He’s got nothing I haven’t seen before.” “I can bring Ed’s lunch to play practice. He helped me pass art class last semester; I owe him.” “I’ll take Al to the mall, mom, so you don’t have to worry about driving. It’s fine- I don’t mind. It’s what brothers do.”
Though brothers didn’t usually spend the following hours having sex in the bathtub, kissing in the costume cage, or holding hands in stores full of strangers… but no one suspected that, even if it was happening.
Alexander felt his insides squirm: not, for the first time in years, unpleasantly; but rather, in a happy way… a horny way. He pinked; flipped his ponytail over his shoulder.
“Alex! Alex, aren’t you going grocery shopping?” His mother’s voice drifted from the kitchen, barely able to mask the sound of Rosie and Mr. Elric arguing. The brunette felt his smile widen by inches. “Your brother is waiting in the car!”
“Yeah, mom! I’m coming!” Alexander returned swiftly, trying to sound properly edgy and duly annoyed. He probably failed, but he really didn’t care. Thrusting his wallet into his back pocket, Al flew through the house-departing with a wave of his hand and a kiss on Mrs. Elric’s cheek.
The garage door slammed shut behind him; time slowed to a craw. His heart fluttered.
Edward-already buckled in and waiting- leered at his younger sibling through the Envoy’s windshield; crossing his arms over the rim of the steering wheel and resting his chin upon them.
Alex blushed excitedly.
It really was too easy.
X
September, 1923
Dear Al,
I suppose I don’t really need to bother with this thing anymore. I mean, you’re here, now-beside me as I write this, sleeping peacefully. But I can’t sleep. Maybe that’s why I picked this journal up again: insomnia. Though to be honest, I haven’t tried to sleep since the day you returned. I don’t want to. Because if I close my eyes, you might disappear on me. A silly superstition, I know... You feel real enough, after all-we’ve held each other every night since your return; chattering pointlessly until morning, never straying from the other’s side. We both needed-need- to be sure that this isn’t just a dream… though the possibility of it being so is looking less and less likely, the more we interact. But a part of me remains afraid… a part of me will always remain afraid-from now until the day I die; no matter how much time passes. And so much time has passed, brother-mine. So much…
I don’t know where to start, Al. Ever since you came back, things have been just like they were before. True, we’re staying with Noa; true, we’re not in our own world; but we’re acting as if Amestris and all of our friends are still only a train ride away, and not a million, million miles. We need to talk about that: our isolation. We need to discuss Heiderich and what he did for us.
What he did for me.
…if… If he really was you, Al-this world’s you- does that make me responsible for your death… again? Why can’t I stop hurting you? Hurting him? I didn’t want him to… I tried to stop him…
I should have tried harder.
I’ll never be able to repay him… and I can’t even make myself cry. As if that wasn’t bad enough, I held your hand throughout his funeral; rubbing it in his face. I didn’t mean it like that, but I couldn’t let you go.
Not even long enough to pay proper respect to the one, true friend I had here.
Perhaps I’m a horrible person. That would explain a lot… though it still wouldn’t be a good excuse. I- I just hope that you can forgive me, Heiderich, wherever you are.
As for us, Al-I suppose we’ll have to see where time takes us. Without Heiderich around, I’ve no reason to stay in Munich. And Noa is like the wind; travel is in her blood. Perhaps we should start a new adventure… maybe that would be best for us.
Yet another new beginning; yet another ending story.
-Ed
X
Thank God for tinted car windows, that’s all Alex had to say.
“Ah-!” The boy threw his head back, sweaty bangs sticking to his face as he pulled his brother nearer, lacing his fingers through Edward’s long locks. His movements disturbed the blonde’s loose hair tie… golden tresses spilled everywhere, curtaining Alex’s view. “Ed…ward-!”
Ed groaned in response, shifting his hold. Alexander felt himself arch; spine molding around the velvety upholstery. Plastic supports and hidden metal framework bit into his back- it felt horribly uncomfortable, yet amazing all at once. Whatever blood hadn’t shot to the lower regions of his body dribbled slowly upward; his head tingled as it hung over the back edge of the seat, auburn locks pooling on the floor behind him.
“Brother. . . !” he gasped, feeling his body topple further backwards as Edward attacked his abdomen-kissing his stomach teasingly, as if it were Al’s mouth. Those strong, warm hands firmly held his waist… Alex looped his bare legs around his lover; Ed’s starched jeans chafed Al’s inner thighs almost painfully-the undone teeth of the zipper nipped at the brunette’s tender flesh.
“Alex…” Edward moaned softly, golden eyes ablaze. Their gazes locked; Alexander’s cheeks glowed scarlet, as did his parted lips. He was breathing shallowly now, thick black lashes heavy with pleasure as he finally tumbled the rest of the way-his sweater slithering downward, tugging uncomfortably on the backing of the last line of seats. Alex grunted, his hips still raised and supported by the second row; chin pressed painfully to his chest. His neck was going to be killing him, later…
Ed grinned, clearly enjoying the picture. His fingers danced lazily down Al’s sides, outlining his hips and thighs with a feathery ‘artist touch.’ Alex knew how much his brother loved memorizing him; feeling first-hand how each bone and muscle in Alexander’s body worked. But right now, he really didn’t care-he just wanted the fire in his loins put out. “Ed, please-!” Alex rasped, fisting his hands by his face. His hair was everywhere; tangled between his fingers, cushioning his head, twirling around his limbs… Edward reached out and played with a few strands, kissing the ends. “Brot-!”
He cut himself off with a silent scream, a tear of soreness and satisfaction staining his crimson cheek. At the same moment, the blonde gasped: burying his face in the pliable heat of Alex’s stomach with a whimper of delight. They adjusted… And then the familiar rhythm began once more; a dance that Alexander would be happy to repeat over and over again until his dying day. The younger boy mewled, shivering as he rolled his hips, feeling Edward slide closer-over the back of the seats and down the planes of Al’s body. He balanced himself on his hands, gripping stray clumps of his lover’s silky auburn hair, fists vanishing within the plush cushions.
Their mouths met in a searing embrace…
“Alex-!”
“Ed- aaa-!” Alex yelped mutely as the bands of blistering heat within him snapped; the dark world flashed a bright, ecstasy-filled white. Wave after wave after wave of intensity… they crashed over him, threatening to drag him out into an alien ocean. So many different sensations- he was cramped and sticky and covered in bruises and rug burns, but dammit he had never felt so good.
Still gasping, Alexander wrapped his lead-like arms around his brother’s torso, hugging Edward to him.
They slid completely into the back.
Thump.
A beat of blissful silence passed, full of cuddles and butterfly kisses. Alex giggled, batting at his sibling’s mischievous hands when he tried to tickle Al’s sides. All the while, Edward chuckled, his lips pressed to his brother’s partially exposed throat. “How did we get all the way back here, anyway?” he asked huskily, smirking. Alex could feel his lover’s chest rise and fall rapidly against his own… it was almost enough to make him hard again. Hell, just begin with Ed was invigorating. “I distinctly remember starting this in the driver’s seat.”
“Mmm… dunno,” Alexander murmured, sounding a little sleepy. “It’s all kind of a blur right now…” He laughed, snuggling closer to his elder sibling. It was so soothing… he felt so protected and safe in his arms.
…Yup. Rosie was right. They were disgustingly happy. Or at least disgustingly corny… But Alex couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn either way. Instead, he chose to gratefully accept the baby wipe his brother offered him, mopping up their mess as best he could. He was becoming pretty skilled at using the frigid little scraps of cloth; accustomed to the pungent smell of cheap soap. They used baby wipes pretty often, after all-had even begun hiding packets of them around the house for occasions such as this. They went through them pretty quickly, too… Alex was beginning to wonder if he should buy stock in the baby wipes market.
“You okay, Al?”
Alexander squeaked, pulled quickly from his thoughts. Edward was watching him with concerned eyes, yanking his red hoodie back on. Once his hands were free, he chivalrously offered Al his discarded pants, which had somehow wound up in the vicinity of the trunk. Alex took them with a smile.
“I’m fine,” he assured, jerking on his faded jeans with a little difficulty. They felt so tight against his legs… The boy straightened his sweater with a swift movement of his hands, crumpling up the dirtied cloth which had-seconds before- been pressed to his overheated skin. “The wipes are just cold, that’s all.”
“Mmm.” Edward nodded once-
Before yanking Alex to him, placing him firmly in his lap.
Needless to say, the sudden movement caught Alex by surprise. He squealed, about to protest, but hastily silenced himself when Ed’s arms wrapped around him tenderly, not lustily. Alexander felt his body melt into a bizarre sort of romantic jelly, leaning back into the inviting embrace… Edward affectionately kissed the hollow of his throat. The brunette purred with satisfaction. “Are you okay, brother?” he then asked, lashes fluttering lazily.
The blonde nodded; he could feel Ed’s head move beside his own. “I just… well, forgive my cliché triteness, but I still can’t believe that I’m allowed to touch you like this,” Edward admitted with a faint chortle, squeezing a little tighter. “I mean, you know how wrong this is.”
“Gay incest?”
“Gay pedophilic incest,” the elder teen corrected with a sardonic grin. “You forget that I’m eighteen now, Al.”
“Oh yeah…” Alex couldn’t help but smile, his heart pounding loudly against his ribcage. It was a lovely feeling. “So, essentially, you’re in big trouble if we ever get caught, huh? I sure hope I’m worth it.”
The blonde snorted, pretending to consider this seriously. It took him a few minutes… “Eh,” he finally decided, hands ghosting over Alexander’s excessively sensitive body, making him writhe: bubbling over with giggles. “Probably not.” Edward beamed, eyes as soft as dandelions-moving to press his brother into the bucket seats, straddling him. Their mouths met briefly; Alex too busy laughing to give a proper kiss. “But the sex is good.”
Alexander snickered, gripping his sibling’s wrists in an attempt to stall for time; to catch his breath. “Yeah,” he airily agreed, almost managing to sound nonchalant- despite his stifled pants. “The sex is pretty good… I guess I’ll wait to turn you in to the authorities.”
Ed gawked in mock outrage; his fine flaxen hair tickled Al’s nose, caressing his cheeks in gentle waves. “Gee, thanks,” he drawled, eyes sparkling wickedly. “I appreciate that, brother-mine.”
They both smiled-Edward rested his head on Alexander’s chest, closing his eyes.
A pause.
“…you know I love you, right?” Ed mumbled; so soft and so sudden that Alex nearly missed it. “I love you more than anything.”
The brunette smiled, idly twirling a lock of sun-colored hair around his finger. “More than the sex?” He tried to sound surprised, feigning shock. But Edward didn’t laugh this time; instead, he felt his brother’s lips tighten in a solemn frown.
“I’m being serious here, Alexander.” Long fingers found a loose handful of sweater and clutched it, refusing to let go. “I love you…”
Alex blushed beautifully.
“…I know, Ed,” he whispered, allowing his own eyes to flutter shut. The car smelt of sex and sweat and baby wipes… heat crushed their bodies in soundless surges of pressure. He could hear people bustling outside; carts rattling in the parking lot. Nobody had parked beside them, thank goodness-they had chosen the furthest space from the store for just that reason. Still, the closeness of the world was intoxicating; thrilling; dangerous… they were committing a horrible sin right underneath society’s big, fat nose- in the parking lot of Pick’n Save, no less.
Alex, for the first time in his life, felt completely content.
“I love you, too, brother… much, much more than I should.”
X
May, 1926
Dear Al,
I have to say, I hope they (re)invent automobiles, here. I miss the cars in Amestris. Trains are nice, and I suppose horse-drawn carts are good if you want some air, but there’s something to be said for private, cushioned travel.
Of course, when I said this, you just told me to be thankful that we could afford train tickets and horse-drawn carts; the depression has gone on for so long, we were lucky to still have that. And walking would have been God-awful, I admit. But so was Germany as a whole.
I decided it was time for a change of pace.
You agreed with this; so did Noa. Just wandering Germany was rather dull-we couldn’t find that bomb, either. You said that we should expand our search to other countries. Noa suggested France; I thought we should try some place a little further up north. (Wouldn’t that be the geological equivalent to that maniac’s castle?)
But you’re the one who keeps track of money, so you’re the one who gets to decide. And you always seemed keen on experiencing a boat ride… which might explain why we’re now on a slimy ship deck, watching Europe’s coastline vanish into the mist. Noa is ecstatic, scurrying from level to level, speaking swiftly to the immigrants around her. I see you watching her oddly; probably because you have yet to master German. I usually have to play translator for you, even for things as simple as asking Noa where she’s going.
I don’t mind, though. In fact, I’m almost glad; it gives me an excuse to speak my native tongue with someone else again- something that feels so good I can hardly begin to describe it. Noa knows a bit of the language, now; she agrees that it sounds much like English, which she’s heard spoken at the carnivals the gypsies she used to travel with had haunted.
Speaking of which, many of the sailors on this ship seem to speak it, too… I wonder where this boat is headed? I should ask you…
Shit, gotta go-you’re headed this way, and I don’t want you to see this journal. (Though I don’t know why; I wrote this for you.)
-Ed
X
Everyone knew that Edward was an amazing actor. He had starred in the majority of the district’s plays and musicals, had won countless awards both in and out of the school for his dramatic exploits, had been an active member of the drama department since middle school, and had only lost in the running for Thespian Club president because he was admittedly too lazy to take on the responsibilities that being president would entail. Yes, like many things, acting came easily to Ed.
Personally, Alex had never been all that interested in theatre. He didn’t really know the other kids involved, for one; for another, he had never thought he’d be exceptionally good. But it had been a month of surprises… and to his very great shock, he’d been wrong.
Perhaps he should go for a formal audition some day.
“I can’t believe you, Ed!” Alexander snapped, barreling into the kitchen with a stormy scowl on his face. In his arms he held a crumpled grocery bag-cans and jars jostled noisily inside of it. Their mother, who had clearly been in the process of calling Ed’s cell phone, gave a start; blinking up at her fuming son. “An hour. Your stupidity wasted an HOUR!”
Edward-who was easing himself through the door, as well-glared furiously over the top of two more paper sacks. “MY stupidity?” he growled, cheeks red with anger. “Excuse ME, Al, but I do believe it was YOU who insisted on trying that new grocery store. It’s not MY fault we got lost.”
Alex graced his brother an exasperated stare, pulling a peach from one of the brown bags and chucking it at Ed. It bounced with a squishy-sounding thump off of his older sibling’s forehead, rolling into the corner once it hit the floor. “Don’t even start! If you had followed the directions I’d given you-!”
“Edward! Alex!” Teri Elric stood with a clatter, holding out her hands in an attempt to separate her battling boys. “Stop it! I don’t want to hear another word. You’re back home now and that’s all that matters. Alex, why don’t you go finish your homework? Edward, you can help me put these away.”
Both teens hung their heads, avoiding their mother’s eyes-if only to keep from laughing. “Yes, mom,” they chorused monotonously; coldly. However, once she’d turned away, Ed readily winked, brushing his hand against Alex’s.
Al turned pink.
Then he spun away with an overdramatic and laborious sigh, grumbling curses under his breath as he followed his mother’s orders. Teri twisted back to face her sons at that moment, blowing out her cheeks as she watched Alex leave. Shaking her head; short, wavy hair rustling; she finally allowed a small smile to grow on her lips. “…so Edward, tell me honestly,” she abruptly demanded, chuckling; wiping her hands off on a spare towel, “did you really get lost, or did you pretend to just to tease him?”
Ed, who didn’t believe in being any more dishonest then necessary, simply smirked. That was all the answer his mom was looking for, anyway. As he predicted, she gave an exaggerated roll of her eyes, but didn’t appear angry. “Oh, Edward,” the woman sighed, though with a hint of good humor. (This didn’t surprise her son either; as the saying went, you have to either laugh or cry, and Mrs. Elric preferred laughing.) “You’re going to drive that poor boy crazy with your teasing…”
The blonde quickly busied himself with some conveniently placed cans and boxes, trying not to snicker. It wouldn’t be fun to explain the punch line to that joke… “I didn’t mean to make him mad, mom,” he insisted half-heartedly, tossing some fruit into the bowl on top of the kitchen counter. “I was just having some fun.” ‘A lot of fun…’
A snort. “I’m sure. Well…I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect this sort of behavior from you two,” his mother retorted wryly, placing a few boxed cake mixes in the cupboards. “You are teenage boys… but I’d rather you didn’t tear each other apart, all right? And really, cut Alex some slack. He’s been going through a lot, recently.”
Edward was having a great deal of difficulty, now, trying to keep his lips from breaking into a wide, toothy grin. Though a part of him-most of him, really-was terrified that his mother might have uncovered some sort of clue as to what was really going on between them… she was so hopelessly and entirely naïve that the whole situation seemed somewhat funny at times. Like now. Which was a bad thing, for sure: nothing about this was funny-nothing at all. And yet…
“Don’t worry, mom,” the teen soothed with an easy smile, sliding out of his hooded sweatshirt and pulling his paint-drenched lab coat from the coat rack in the corner, “I won’t tear him apart… or, at least, I’ll do my best to restrain myself.”
Teri beamed appreciatively, her gray eyes sparkling. “That’s all I ask. Thanks for doing the shopping.”
“No problem,” Edward returned with a wave of his hand, fixing his bound hair. He casually tightened the elastic tie, just to make sure the ponytail was tight… “Now, if you excuse me, I have a painting I’d like to try and fini-”
But before he had a chance to leave the kitchen, someone else appeared in the doorway, blocking it. A large someone-the one person in the house as tall as him. That person paused upon noticing him, fixing his glasses, then grinned. “Ah, Edward… just who I was looking for.”
Ed’s smile instinctively slipped half a notch. “Hi, dad,” he greeted-not cautiously, but with an air of trepidation. To be perfect honest, his father had always scared him slightly… a lot more, now that he had something important to hide. “What can I do for you?”
Mrs. Elric cleared her throat, suddenly fascinated by the dirty dishes in the sink. The blonde cast her a dark look from over his shoulder; she was in on this, too. That could only mean one thing… ‘Crap…’
“Dad-” he began with an irritated sigh, but was silenced by his father lifting his index finger meaningfully.
“I know you think you know what I’m going to say, Ed,” Mr. Elric interrupted with a toothy beam, clearly excited by whatever it was he had to announce, “but hear me out anyway. Now, Mr. and Mrs. Ross’s daughter, Sarah-you remember her, right?- her school is having a dance next weekend, and she really likes you, Edwa-”
The blonde teen shook his head resolutely, mouth drawn down in a tight scowl. “Dad, we’ve been over this,” Edward ground out, stuffing his hands in his pockets so that his parents wouldn’t see his clenched fists. “I’m not interested in her.”
Benjamin Elric frowned. “I don’t understand why,” he retorted sternly, rubbing his neatly trimmed beard. “She’s a lovely girl-pretty, sweet, and enjoys arts and crafts nearly as much as you.”
Ed stiffened at the phrase ‘arts and crafts.’ ‘What am I, a preschooler?’ “I just didn’t like her, Dad,” he grumbled, trying to bypass his father on his way out of the kitchen-but he was easily intercepted by a well placed arm.
“Edward,” Mr. Elric began again, trying to sound less frustrated than he really was. “I appreciate how much time you dedicate to your work, and I’m thankful that you’re so serious about school. But it’s okay to go out on dates and have fun, too. You know that, right? I’m only trying to help you find a nice girlfriend… I can’t imagine why you don’t have one already. You’re smart, decent, talented, and- except for that hair- good-looking…”
Ed glowered, moving away when his father attempted to place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m just not interested right now, Dad,” he snapped, feeling his eyebrow give a warning tick. “I’d rather focus on college- and I’m sick of telling you that. So can we please let this drop?” He stormed past the moment Benjamin hesitated.
The grown man furrowed his brow. “But what abou-?”
“Sarah can find her own date!” Edward hollered acidly, slamming the basement door shut with all the force of an earthquake. Mr. Elric winced, grabbing a trembling picture before it toppled off the wall.
Teri didn’t even look up. Instead, she smiled and snapped the dishwasher shut, wiping her sodden hands off on a dishrag. “…that went well.”
Benjamin simply sighed.
X
August, 1927
Dear Al,
Has it really been so long since I last wrote? It’s hard to believe… it feels like we boarded that rusty old ship yesterday. But no… it was over a year ago, and time just kept moving along.
So did Noa, incidentally. After we landed in New York, she left us for a group of fellow gypsies. Though I suppose that makes her sound flakier than she really was… she didn’t mean her departure to be taken as an insult. But she missed her culture and her people, and was finally ready to accept this world as her home.
I was-am- happy for her. I’m glad that she finally found her place, just as I found mine. By your side. And your place is by me. Perhaps Noa saw that, as well, and knew that she would never be completely welcome in our world.
Either way, there were no hard feelings-just a heartfelt goodbye. We still get letters from her, sometimes. When her postcards find us.
However, we weren’t alone for long. After we passed through Ellis Island (I hate that place, by the way, and am NEVER GOING BACK), we ran-quite literally-into a familiar-faced stranger.
Winry.
Only she isn’t Winry anymore. Her name is Annya. You had been chasing a stray kitten down a side road; she had tripped on the unfamiliar cobbled streets. Your bodies collided with a crash that frightened all the nearby horses and sent reams of paper flying.
She yelled-cursed and screamed in a language I didn’t recognize at the time, but learnt later to be Russian. Still, I knew enough body language to realize that she was going to beat us to a bloody pulp if we didn’t help her collect her things. So we did. Quickly.
An hour later, we all sat-panting and irritated-on the curb, watching carriages rattle past. She was annoyed because all of her documents had been covered in mud and horse hooves. You tried to read one of the papers, but couldn’t despiser any of the words… and so, always the gentleman, you asked her politely what they were. Thankfully, she spoke English. At least enough to get by.
“They are stories,” she replied curtly, snatching the papers back. Her ragged dress ruffled as she did so; fingerless gloves covered in grime that had been present long before the afternoon’s ordeal. You seemed to notice her scruffy appearance as well, horrified by how skinny she was. “But they are not good. I could not find good ones in the Soviet Union. So I decided to come here to find some.”
My response was something along the lines of: “You came all the way to America by yourself to write stories?” She couldn’t have been more than 13. (She wasn’t. She was 12.)
Annya flushed prettily at my remark, but her wide blue eyes grew deeply sad. And in an instant, I knew. We both knew. Still, we were quiet and allowed her to tell us how she had been orphaned by the Great War, and how her grandmother, who she had lived with after the fact, had recently died of influenza. Why she was so open with the information, I’m still not sure-maybe she was just grateful that someone cared. It didn’t look like she’d been with people who cared about her for a long time.
Maybe it was because she looked like Winry. Maybe it was because we’re just a pair of saps. Maybe it’s because she needed us-she was only a child. I don’t know; you sure as hell didn’t. But something made us take her hands-like we used to take Winry’s when we were little-and lead her towards an outdoor café, with the promise of an excellent story.
Our story.
We didn’t tell her everything, of course. Just the first snippet-about Resembool, about mom. About alchemy. She didn’t believe a word of it, of course, but she ate it up nearly as hungrily as she did the sandwich we bought her. And when we stopped speaking, she demanded to hear more.
Heck, she refused to leave until she’d heard more. She wanted to hear the whole story-but really, we weren’t ready to tell it.
So we took her with us. Rather, she followed us, and we let her. We couldn’t just turn her away…
And so, here we are. Living in New York, in The Land of Dreams. At least, that’s the name you told me, Al. Personally, I think it’s more like the-land-of-noisy-bastards-and-arrogant-jerks, but that could be true of anywhere. We live in a tiny apartment in the slums-where wet laundry is always flapping in the wind, and rusty fire escapes decorate the crumbling stone buildings. The plunking music of Tin Pan Alley serenades us all day and night, as do the yowls of the three cats you somehow persuaded me into letting you keep. Annya is almost like a cat, too; always pawing around, curious about everything, eyes open for a story. She keeps paper everywhere, and is always jotting down notes. I’m almost afraid to light a fire in the kitchen, for fear I might scorch one of her manuscripts. (The pen IS mightier then the sword when it comes to Annya.) As for you, Al-you’re always encouraging her; helping her with her English when you’re not busy at work. Currently, you’re working down at the docks-but that job will probably only last until the end of the summer. Then you’ll have to find a new one. Thankfully, I found a somewhat-steady job down at a bar… though I’ve been hearing talk about a prohibition act. I should probably start applying for some sort of desk job.
All in all, life is…
… I don’t really know. We’ve been so busy just living, I haven’t really thought about it. I think I’m happy, though. I think you are, too. We’re together, at least, and that’s all that matters. We’re safe; our secrets kept. (Though sometimes I think Annya wonders about the ‘noises’ she hears in our room.) So… I think we’re okay. And we’re going to stay okay. In which case, I should probably show you this notebook. Your birthday is coming up; maybe I’ll give it to you, then. After all, you’re still here-this isn’t a dream (despite America’s popular second name)… there’s no reason for me to write in this anymore.
…All right, I’m fooling myself. This really has become a journal of sorts… I’m recording time that passes, aren’t I, and the events that shape us. That would constitute… you know…
But I am writing this for you. So that, just in case you ever lose your memories again-(I still can’t believe that damn Gate stole your memories! Wasn’t tearing us apart enough? I mean, come-fucking-on-!)- you’ll have some sort of record of what has happened to us in this world.
So it’s really still more of a travel log, okay? (NOT A DIARY, ALL RIGHT, ANNYA? YOU CAN STOP READING OVER MY SHOULDER, NOW.)
I’ve got to go start dinner.
-Ed
X
“Ed, what’s wrong?”
Edward straightened, startled by the unexpected question. “Wrong…?” He repeated blankly, blinking down at his brother. “Nothing… why?”
Alex pouted, glaring weakly at his older sibling. “Don’t lie to me,” he huffed, disentangling his arms from around Ed’s neck. This was quite the task, seeing as how his pajama sleeves were three inches longer than necessary on either side, and the spare cloth had a tendency to knot. Still, he did so with a certain grace; crossing his arms tightly over his chest to show his growing disapproval. “You haven’t been here all night-your mind is a million miles away.”
“Not true,” Ed protested, albeit a bit weakly, pressing his palms flat to the flannel fabric covering Alexander’s thighs. “I’ve been as alert as a hawk.”
Al scoffed, shifting on Edward’s stool. They had propped it up against the wall in the corner of the basement, behind a few messy bookshelves and art-covered tables. He kicked his dangling feet. “Sure you have… what’s the last thing we were discussing?”
Were they discussing something?
The brunette blew out his cheeks, running his fingers through his loose hair. He’d begun wearing it down more often, because Ed had told him it made him look adorable. “Brother,” he tried again, more gently this time-reaching out with his sleeve-covered hands to touch his elder sibling’s face, “what’s the matter? Talk to me…”
“…” Edward deflated, falling forward to rest his forehead against Alexander’s shoulder. The delicate curve of the younger teen’s collar bone was delightfully noticeable beneath the fuzzy softness of his pajamas; the blonde’s pale fingers found Alex’s forearms, hidden beneath seas of polka dotted fabric. He breathed in deeply. The younger boy smelt sweet, like vanilla-warm and wet from his recent shower. “…it wasn’t anything important,” Ed assured softly, nearly purring when Al wrapped his arms around him, trying to pull his lover closer. Alex seemed so tiny; petite… even smaller in those PJs. The sight filled Edward with a strange desire to protect him, though he knew perfectly well that Alexander could fend for himself. The thought made him smile. “Dad was just being stupid.”
“How so?” Alex pressed lightly, resting his cheek upon Ed’s crown. He used his palms to smooth down his elder’s sibling’s hair. Edward hummed contentedly.
“He’s trying to find me a girlfriend,” he mumbled, nuzzling closer to show his affection. And though it came as no surprise that Alexander stiffened upon processing this announcement, the blonde still frowned; pressing a soft kiss to the underside of Al’s chin. “Don’t worry, it’s happened before… he’s been trying to set me up with coworkers’ kids since I was 15. It’s just annoying, you know? Being told that I’m abnormal for not having a girlfriend, even though I’m 18…”
“I don’t think he feels it’s abnormal because you’re 18,” Alex returned flatly, though there was a hint of a smirk in his voice. “I think he feels it’s abnormal because you’re freaking hot.”
Ed grunted. “Yeah, I think he mentioned that, too… whatever. He’s probably just noticed that I’ve never dated anyone and needs to see me with a girl to calm his nerves. Otherwise, he might begin to think that I’m gay.”
“You? Gay?” Alex was definitely grinning, now. “I’ve never heard anything more ridiculous. You’re as straight as a circle.”
“Shut up,” Edward laughed softly, jokingly poking his brother in the ribs. At the same time, Alexander could feel Ed’s lips quirk upward against his throat; the movement caused a pleasant prickling sensation to ripple through him. “You’re certainly one to talk, you little hypocrite.”
Alex giggled a few seconds longer, tightening his hold around his older sibling. The heat of Edward’s body felt so good; so reassuring… “…you’re sure it’s nothing serious, right?” Alex inquired, sounding a slightly nervous as the light-hearted moment faded away. “Dad doesn’t think…? He doesn’t know…?”
The blonde shook his head, squeezing his arms through the gap between the small of Alexander’s back and the cold cement wall, pulling his brother nearer. “No,” he stated quietly. “He doesn’t know. And I don’t plan on letting him know. As for whatever girl he chooses to push on me-”
“I don’t want to see you dating anyone,” Alex interrupted fretfully, starting to sound panicked. His thin fingers tightened, as if afraid Ed might drift away. “Please-”
“Don’t worry,” the blonde soothed, unable to swallow a tender chuckle. “That’s not what I was going to say. What I was going to say was that I’ll just keep tell him that I’m not interested in girls right now; I’m too busy focusing on college. Eventually he’ll drop it. It’s worked before; it’ll work again. All right?”
Not really-it was still risky. And the more Edward refused, the more suspicious things were going to look… but really, what choice did they have? Alexander forced himself to smile, though he remained looking somewhat anxious. “Okay… you promise?”
“If you promise not to worry.”
“You know I can’t promise that,” the brunette allowed himself a dry grin, rubbing noses with his boyfriend. “But I’ll promise to try…”
Ed smiled-that beautiful, adoration-filled smile that made Alexander’s heart melt and his insides squirm with giddiness. “Good enough,” he agreed, pulling Alex down into a deceptively gentle kiss.
Neither rose again for another hour.
X
June, 1928
Dear Al,
Technology is amazing.
Today we went and saw a “Talkie”-a moving picture reel with words and sound. At first, I thought it might be alchemy at work; I didn’t know science could do anything like that. Annya told me I was stupid (her English just keeps getting better and better); they’ve been talking all about this Edison character in the papers. Apparently, he’s invented a lot. I wonder if he has an equivalent in Amestris? I bet Winry would like Talkies as much as Annya did-despite her sarcastic remarks, I haven’t seen her more excited since the day you took her to Central Park, Al. (You spoil her, by the way. She did not need that new dress, even if she does look incredibly cute in it.)
In other news, people have been talking less and less about America being the “land of dreams” and more and more about the times. “The Roaring Twenties,” I believe is the proper term. I’ve always thought it was roaring-the noise level has yet to die down.
I’ll write more later. I need to go feed your damn cats. You owe me in Equivalent Exchange for this, I hope you know.
-Ed
X
According to Alex’s pocket dictionary, “eventually” meant “in due time.” A simple enough translation… However, what he really wanted to know was how long “in due time” planned on amounting to. It had already been two weeks, and their father had yet to relent in his “cupidic” endeavors. In fact, he’d only grown more persistent- he didn’t even bother trying to hide his matchmaking tendencies anymore; it was a family affair.
“Really, Edward,” Benjamin exclaimed over Sunday morning breakfast-the one event the Elrics were still forced to endure together. Pancakes and French toast… Edward used to hate family breakfasts because the smell of French toast made him gag; now he dreaded the gathering for new and entirely more hellish reasons. “You should at least get to know Danielle before you come to a decision. Her father tells me she adores you…”
“Dad, I don’t even know who you’re talking about,” Ed all but snarled, pushing his dissected pancakes around and around his syrup drenched plate. He felt like screaming… or attacking his father with his fork; two urges which would probably be frowned upon by the rest of the family. (Well, at least by his mother. Rosie looked ready to back him up with her cereal spoon.) “Can’t I be allowed to date who I want?”
Beneath the table, Edward felt Alex’s left foot brush his right; twining silently around his brother’s ankle. He cast his younger sibling a subtle sideways glance, but Alexander had yet to look up from his plate. Regardless, the gesture was understood, and Ed felt himself begin to calm down.
Though not quickly enough.
“Of course,” Mr. Elric chuckled robustly, cutting a careful square of French toast and popping it into his mouth. “I’m not trying to force a girl on you, son. I only want to see you out on the field a little, you know? You’re always so preoccupied with your projects… don’t you think your brother should start dating, Alex?”
Alex, understandably startled, choked on an apple slice, sliding both feet away from his brother’s. (Edward’s already sour expression darkened further.) “I, um… yeah, I guess so,” the younger boy finally stuttered, nose wrinkling in distaste. “But really, Dad, I don’t blame him for not wanting to… most of the girls at are school are idiots.”
“Hey,” Rosalie grumbled unenthusiastically, half-asleep. Nine A.M. was too early to do anything… “I’m one of those girls, you know.”
“That’s why I said ‘most,’” Alexander repeated, dragging a finger around the rim of his apple juice glass. His mother shot him a reproving look; he grudgingly stopped. “But it doesn’t matter, Rosie-Edward can’t date you.”
The teenage girl’s lips unfurled in a languidly beam. “I suppose that’s true,” she agreed in an excessively blasé voice. “Me being family and all.”
Edward and Alex both shot her frosty glares.
“By the way, Daddy,” Rosie continued, undaunted by the scowls on her brothers’ faces; twirling a knife between her bejeweled fingers, “with all this work you’re putting into Ed’s love life… are you gonna try to find me a boyfriend?”
Benjamin snorted, sprinkling powdered sugar over his French toast. “Absolutely not-you’re too young to date, baby girl.”
Instantaneously, Rosie’s face mutated into a glower, narrowing her lined eyes. “That’s pretty sexist of you, Dad,” she quipped, crossing one leg over the other and resting her chin in a palm. Classic Rosalie fighting stance… It took Alex a minute to realize that she was purposely-and successfully-trying to distract their father from the matter at hand.
He had never loved her more than he had at that moment.
“Why is everything I do sexist?” their father grumbled, sounding irate. “I don’t mean to say that you can never date… I just don’t think you’re old enough yet, Rosie. You’re only 14, and-well, you have a bit of a wild side. I don’t want to see anything bad happening to you, like… you know…”
“Sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll?” Rosie filled in flippantly, her glossed lips pulling back in a feral grin. “C’mon, Dad. Can you honestly see me doing the nasty with a bunch of guys before marriage?”
Nobody answered that. Rosalie’s forehead furrowed in true anger.
“Thanks for all the support,” she drawled, clearly offended. “And here I thought my own family knew me… I am not that bad! I would never have sex before marriage or some other legally-binding commitment ceremony.”
“It’s not that we don’t trust you, honey,” Teri put in gently, taking a sip of milk. “Your father and I just don’t think you’re quite as mature as your brother, yet.”
“Not true…” Rosie grunted, frightfully mad now. Not that any of this dating-stuff affected her; with Rosalie, it was always ‘the principle of the issue.’ And she didn’t like losing, even when she wasn’t in the race. “You just don’t think he has a sex drive…”
Alexander choked on air, trying not to blush. Edward just looked annoyed. “I’m right here, you know,” he reminded sarcastically, leaning back in his chair with a look of pure irritation on his face. “And I don’t appreciate the family discussion of my sex life…”
“Which I’m sure is non-existent,” Mr. Elric stated confidently. (Alex was having a little trouble breathing now- coughing meaningfully into a napkin.) “I’m not encouraging any of you to go have sex. Sex comes after marriage and no sooner. I’d just like to see Ed get out and meet new people-”
“-of the female persuasion-”
“-so that he knows what to look for in a future wife,” Benjamin finished, ignoring Rosalie’s silent rant on how much a bigot he was. “In fact, I should start asking around for you, too, Alex. You’re ready, I think; definitely responsible. Why not try again with Zena, now that you’re both a little older?”
Alexander’s flushed cheeks paled. ‘Crud…’ “Dad, I…”
“He’s already got a girlfriend,” Edward announced, standing with a clatter of food-filled plates and a half-drunk glass. All eyes snapped upon him. Ed grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Al, I know I promised I wouldn’t tell, but it looks like Dad won’t be mad…”
Alex blinked vacantly at him; he thought his heart had stopped for a moment. “Brother…”
“Is that true?” Mr. Elric excitedly inquired, without bothering to wait for an answer. Which was good, since Al didn’t give one… but he did nearly buckle over in pain when his father clapped him happily on the back. “That’s fantastic, Alex! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”
“I…” Alexander floundered, completely lost. ‘What just happened here?’
But again, their father didn’t even pause- throwing a wide grin in Edward’s direction. Ed was (rather determinedly) not paying attention to this; his back to the table as he scrubbed his dishes down in a spray of cold water. “See now, son? It can’t be so hard to get a girl if Alexander here can. You know how shy he gets, after all…” Alex was pretty sure he should feel offended by this, but he was too mystified to care. ‘What’s Ed trying to pull-? Does he want to end it…?’ “Why don’t I give Danielle’s parents a call, eh? You’re free tonight, ri-?”
CRASH!
The sudsy tableware slammed into the dishwasher with enough strength to shatter stones; the entire family jumped in shock, turning towards Edward with wide eyes. He was clutched the rim of the sink with trembling fingers, right eyebrow twitching dangerously.
Alex felt his stomach clench. ‘Don’t do anything stupid, Brother-!’
Whether or not Ed heard Al’s silent plea could not be determined. However, he did attempt to compose himself: taking a deep breath, flicking his golden eyes over Benjamin’s startled face. “…all right, Dad,” he bit out, voice sounding strangely tight. Alex and Rosie cast each other dismayed glances; something wasn’t right. “You know what? I give up. I don’t know how I can make this any clearer, so I’ll give it to you straight: I’M NOT.”
“…” Mr. Elric blinked blankly at him, visibly puzzled. “…Excuse me?”
“I’m not interested in girls, Dad,” Edward spat, slamming a fist against the counter. Alexander and Rosalie jumped a second time; their parents simply stared. “I wasn’t interested in them yesterday, I’m not interested in them today, and I’m not going to be interested in them tomorrow. I’m gay. Always have been, always will be.”
He tried to grin, but it ended up looking more like a grimace. “…That’s just the way I am.”
Alex’s insides disappeared-as did, it seemed, their father’s. He sat there, gaping… His wife didn’t seem any more stable; torn between alarm and astonishment. Rosie, on the other hand, knew exactly how she felt: panicked; casting Edward a look which plainly screamed ‘what the fuck are you doing, you idiot!’
But she didn’t say it.
There was only silence.
X
December, 1929
Dear Al,
I’ve decided that we are a curse. We must be, with the amount of shit that trails behind us. Shit like depression. Depression seems to follow us everywhere. And not just the emotional kind, haha. No…
The stock market crashed in October. They’re calling it the “Great” Depression. The one in Germany was very much like this… Only this time, we can’t just run away. We’re broke. Not as broke as most families, thankfully, but money is tight. I lost my job at the bar-that damn prohibition act passed. Then again, even if it hadn’t, I would have lost it anyway. Everyone has been losing their jobs… well, most everyone. I have a few higher-classed friends-you get to know a lot of people through alcohol- and they’ve managed to secure us some work. Not much, but enough to live on.
Annya has helped as much as she can: she’s sold her extra dresses and toys, sacrificed her precious paper for the furnace; she even offered to go work in the factories. I wouldn’t hear of it, though-I’ve seen what they do to kids there. So instead, she takes care of the house while we work. As payment, we tell her more of our story. Since she can’t write it down anymore, she memorizes it instead- even composes music to it and hums it while she works, so as to commit it to memory. It’s kind of disturbing, really, hearing chapters of your life being sung by your surrogate daughter while she cleans out the oven. But it’s cute, too. You’ve started calling her our little Ziegfeld Folly. Even she laughs when you do.
…It’s nice… to still be able to laugh. It’s comforting, really, to know that we’re not that far gone; that we can keep moving forward, no matter how bleak things seem.
There may be hard times are ahead of us, Alphonse, but I’m sure we can get through them together.
-Ed
XXX
Dun dun DAAAAA! Cliffhanger! EEEEK! *Runs screaming from readers.*
Remember, if you kill me, I can’t update! *hides*
(PS. I did the calculations, in case anyone was wondering-at the time they meet Annya, Ed is 22 and Al is (physically) 17. Annya, as stated before, is 12.
Just so you know.
Yup.
*goes back to hiding*)