Full Metal Alchemist, "Empty Nest 11: Back to Normal. Russel/Edward, NC-17
This is the LAST OF MY 30_LEMONS CHALLENGES!!! Woohoo! *confetti*
Yeah. So what. I still have 29 Al/Danny left to go. I know, I know. But here’s this one, anyway, done in response to challenge #5, “The Harem.” I cheated, of course. And somehow, half a metric ass-ton of plot sneaked into this fic. I have absolutely no idea how or why, but when I clicked the button to paginate this monstrosity, expecting to see 6 pages, I nearly fell out of my chair at the sight of 14.
I had angst. Writing made it better. That’s the short version. The longer version is that evil car salesmen who don’t take me seriously are, well, evil, and boys who help me at WalMart, just because I’m female, but won’t help my husband because he’s not, suck almost as severely.
The really long version of that probably won’t fit into one Livejournal entry, so I’ll just leave it at that.
[EDIT]: This is not only the last of my 30_lemons challenges and a response to the prompt, but it's also chapter 11 of Empty Nest. Go figure ...
Empty Nest in its entirety:
Prologue: Prodigal Sons
Chapter 1: Awakening
Chapter 1.5: A Matter of Pride
Chapter 2: True Test
Chapter 3: Amestris Pie
Chapter 4: Waiting
Chapter 5: Allowance
Chapter 6: Change
Chapter 7: Truce
Chapter 8: Out Alone
Chapter 9: Growing Pains
Chapter 10: Resentment
[Chapter 11: Back to Normal]
Chapter 12: Perspective
Chapter 13: Understanding
Chapter 14: Distraction
Chapter 15: Silence
Chapter 16: Choose
Chapter 17: Bonds
Chapter 18: Healing
Chapter 19: Nesting
Chapter 20: The Morning After
Chapter 21: Reaction
Chapter 22: Aftershocks
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Chapter 24: Memory
Epilogue: Family
Empty Nest
Chapter Eleven
Back to Normal
by Mistress Quickly
Winry padded into the living room, gently touching Russel on the shoulder. “I think you should go be with Edward,” she said, softly. “He needs someone right now, other than me and Grandma.”
Russel leapt to his feet, and bolted from the room without another word, footsteps loud in the hallway as he hurried to the operating room where his husband had been sealed away all day, the man’s screams having been Russel’s only reassurance that he was still alive. Winry sighed and flopped down in Russel’s place, giving Fletcher a weary smile.
“Hey,” she said. “Sick of listening to your brother fret yet?”
Fletcher laughed softly and leant closer, kissing her on the lips. “I learned a long time ago to tune him out without looking like I’m not listening,” he said. “Works like a charm every time.” He laced his fingers with hers. “What’s up with Edward?”
Winry sighed. “Slight infection in one of his ports has his temperature up. Just to 99.7, but that’s enough that we can’t safely operate. Attaching Automail is traumatic enough on a healthy body. We can’t risk tasking his system when it’s fighting off infection. And besides, we’d like to be able to kill the infection now, while we can safely get at it.”
“That makes sense,” said Fletcher, “but I can see how that would be disheartening, if he’s been prepared to have it done today.” He cuddled close to his girlfriend, nuzzling the side of her neck. “Russel will cheer him up. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah,” said Winry. “That’s why I came out and got him.”
Fletcher laughed. “Aw, I thought it was just so you could have some alone time with me,” he said.
And it was nice, hearing Winry laugh. She hated attaching Edward’s Automail, almost as much as Edward hated having it attached. Fletcher found that he, selfishly, didn’t mind the delay at all, if for nothing more than his girlfriend’s happiness.
He trusted his brother to tend to Edward’s, after all.
~*~*~*~
“Hi, baby.”
Edward glared at his husband, his good hand picking at the blanket draped over his lower body and tugged it up, over the scarred tissue where his Automail arm was normally attached.
“Don’t call me that, Russ,” he said, weary and petulant, all at once. “And get out of here. I don’t need you to see me like this.”
Russel shook his head. “Don’t be silly, Ed,” he said, softly, making his way around the table of Automail parts, past the tray of surgical tools. “You don’t look all that different to me. Still look like the man I married.” He settled on the side of Edward’s bed, bending forward to kiss the man, his hand pressed into the pillow, balancing him when Edward arched forward, kissing him back, tongue slipping into Russel’s mouth, breath tickling warm across the younger man’s cheek.
“There,” he said, when Russel pulled away, flushed and licking his lips. “You got a kiss. Now get out and tell Winry to get back in here. She’s got to put my stuff back on. I can’t go for days like this.”
Russel sighed, splaying his fingers over his husband’s bare chest. “They’re not putting them back on?” he said. When Edward shook his head, Russel’s eyes widened. “Winry said you were upset about something. Didn’t say that’s what it was.”
“Yeah,” said Edward. “I’ve got an infection or something around my arm port. They said that they want to treat the infection while there’s nothing in the way. The infection bumped my temperature up a little, so now they’re not going to reattach the new stuff, and they won’t just give me back my old limbs.”
“That kind of makes sense, actually,” said Russel, his hand moving higher to play with the strands of hair that had escaped the braid he’d watched his husband wind his long hair into, earlier. “Fletch and I never work with plants that aren’t absolutely healthy to begin with.”
Edward frowned. “Yeah, but your plants can’t move around to begin with, Russ-well, except for the Venus flytraps. They can sit around and get better without changing what they do. I can’t ... do ... anything without my arm and leg! I can’t walk, can’t write, can’t ... I can barely feed myself with my left hand, Russ.” He gave his husband a pitiful look. “I’m useless without my Automail.”
“No, baby,” said Russel. “You’re not useless. You just have an excuse for me to baby you, here for a few days now. And your brother’ll be here soon to wait on you hand-and-foot, right? He and Danny said they’d leave around noon, and it’s twelve-thirty now.”
“Hand-and-foot,” said Edward, scowling.
Russel blushed. “Bad choice of words,” he said. “Sorry.”
Edward sighed. “It’s true, though, that he’ll be waiting on me. I’ve been like this before, once, when I first lost them. Winry was too small to help me around, and Grandma couldn’t always be there to do stuff for me, and when I tried crawling around, all I did was rip open the places where my arm and leg used to be, so I was ordered to stay in bed. Al took pity on me, carried me around, did what I wanted, and I’ve never felt so guilty in all my life. Here’s my little brother-my little brother-able to carry me around only because I fucked up and got him stuck as an empty suit of armor instead of a normal nine-year-old boy.” He picked at the blanket, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be like that ever again, Russ. Once was more than enough.”
Russel bent forward and kissed him, just soft pressure of lips against lips, then rested his forehead against Edward’s. “It’s different now, baby,” he said. “You’ve got me to take care of you, and Al-”
“If you think that I’m going to be cheered up by the notion that my little brother can’t remember how it was, the night I lost my arm and leg,” growled Edward, “then you are sorely mistaken.”
“Not what I was going to say,” said Russel. He stood and padded over to the table by the wall, running his finger down the wrist of Edward’s old arm. “I was going to say that Al could carry you around now, not because he’s a seven-foot-tall suit of armor, but because he’s got a strong, healthy body, and he’s got it because of you, Ed. I don’t care if you say it’s all your fault, what happened Before. Al helped you, he committed the same taboo, and you saved him, got him back to normal.”
Edward blinked at him. “If I could get out of this damn bed,” he said, “I think I’d probably hit you for saying that.”
Russel returned to his husband’s bedside, leaning close enough that his hair tickled Edward’s forehead when it fell forward. “Go for it,” he said.
Edward squirmed. “Maybe later,” he said. Then he sighed and looked up at his husband through his bangs. “Sorry, Russ. Just stresses me out, having half of Me over there on that table, and in that box, not attached to Me, over here.”
“Box?” said Russel. “Your new arm and leg are in that box?” He straightened and returned to the table, flicking open the catch on a plain wooden box that lay beside Edward’s old arm and leg, then pushed it open. Inside were Edward’s new limbs, disconnected at elbow and knee, shiny and motionless against the dark purple velveteen that lined the inside of the box. “Wow,” he said. “Winry really outdid herself with the new models.”
“Yeah,” said Edward, preening a bit. “They’re going to look nicer, too. More like real limbs.”
Russel reached out and tentatively stroked the wrist of the new arm. “It’s funny,” he said. “We’ve been married two years, now, and I’ve never seen you without your arm or leg before.” He stroked between the fingers of the metal hand. “And it’s kind of weird, thinking that this will be the hand that you’ll be writing with, when they put it on you. The hand you’ll use when we make dinner, use when we work together in the greenhouse.” He closed the box and latched it, then made his way back over to his husband, sinking down on the edge of the man’s bed. “The hand you’ll use when we make love.”
Edward blinked at him. “Yeah?” he said.
Russel kissed him, soft pressure of lips on lips. “You’ve had, what, three sets in the time I’ve known you, right?”
“Three?”
Russel nodded. “Yeah. The one you had when we first met, then the one you got when you came back from the other side of the Gate, and now this set. Three.”
Edward shrugged. “I guess so,” he said. “Why, what’s your point?”
“Just thinking,” said Russel, “that it’s almost like having a harem, like I’ve had three different lovers, if that’s really You over there, on the table, in that box.”
Edward wrinkled his nose. “What the hell are you talking about, Russ? It’s still me.”
Russel smiled. “You’re the one who said it was half of You, over there, not me.” He returned to his perch on Edward's bed, kissed his husband, then stood. “I’ll go talk to Pinako, okay? See if maybe she can figure out a way to get them back on you sooner.” He squeezed Edward’s good hand, then made his way out of the room, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the left strap of his suspenders.
Pinako was making coffee in the kitchen, which worried Russel. He’d considered drinking the coffee Pinako made, just once, but it was as thick as the oil he put on Edward’s joints, and smelled strongly of something that reminded him of gunpowder, a combination of traits he didn’t really feel he’d like to try in a beverage. Swallowing hard, he leant against the doorfacing, trying to look nonchalant.
“No,” said the old woman.
Russel blinked at her, his mouth hanging open.
“Not until his fever’s gone,” Pinako elucidated.
“Oh,” said Russel. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Pinako. “He’ll be glad you asked.”
Russel went back to his husband’s side, shaken. “She said no,” he said.
Edward sighed. “You didn’t even get to ask, did you?” When Russel gave him a traumatized look, Edward waved his hand. “Nevermind. She say how long?”
“Until your fever goes down,” said Russel. “However long that takes.”
“Fuck,” whispered Edward, thumping his head back against the pillow. “I hate this, Russ. Hate being a fucking cripple.”
Russel didn’t know what to say. He laced his fingers with his husband’s, squeezing the man’s good hand, his other hand stroking Edward’s side through the blanket, soft circular strokes like he’d seen Edward give Al when the boy was upset over a nightmare, or melancholy over a fight with Danny that he didn’t trust himself to discuss with his overprotective older brother. Edward looked so small without his limbs, the blanket hanging over his ribs, flat where his arms should have been, and behind Russel, the blanket rose over Edward’s flesh leg, the ridge of bone and muscle somehow thin-looking without its prosthetic mate. All the years he’d followed Edward’s journeys, reading whatever newspapers he could get his hands on, Russel had never really considered the man he loved so passionately in terms of mortality, had never seen Edward as vulnerable, as weak.
He didn’t like it.
“I think I might know of something that can help, baby,” he said. “Will you be okay until I come back? I need to go get some stuff, just for a bit.”
They heard the door open, Pinako slipping inside, her arms crossed over her chest. Edward scowled at his husband. “I’ll be fine, Russ,” he said. “I can’t move around all that much, but I’m not a baby.”
“Indeed, you’re not,” said Pinako. “Far too heavy for me or Winry to carry. Russel, if you’re going to be leaving, get him upstairs to your room first, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel. He pulled back the blanket covering his husband, ignoring Edward’s protests that he didn’t want Russel to see him in such a state. “Quiet, baby. I’ve seen you slumped over the toilet puking before, carried you back to bed even though you’d not bathed in several days. This can’t be any worse than that.”
Edward struggled, grabbing at the blanket with his good hand. “That was different, Russ,” he said. “I’m ... I look weird without my stuff.”
Russel rolled his eyes and tugged the blanket all the way off of his husband’s body, leaving the man totally exposed on the operating bed, flailing in his boxers. “You look the same to me,” he said, softly. “Still the short-tempered, short-statured Edward Elric I married. Now, how do you want me to carry you? Right side to my chest or left?”
Edward moaned. “Russ, just leave me, please. I don’t-hey!”
“Put your arm around my neck. I don’t want to crush it, carrying you.”
Grumbling, Edward did as he was told, wrapping his arm around Russel’s neck, sucking in a sharp breath when the man lifted him. Russel was gentle, cradling the stump of Edward’s leg against his tight stomach, hand holding the hip of Edward’s good leg, his other arm wrapped firmly around the man’s ribs, just beneath the scars where Edward’s arm should have been.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, softly, turning and leaving the room, Pinako holding the door for him.
“Don’t call me that,” said Edward, resting his head miserably against Russel’s collarbone.
“Sorry,” said Russel. He made his way up the stairs, navigating slowly around the banister at the top, waiting for Pinako to open the bedroom door for him. Edward grunted in pain when Russel shifted him, settling him on the side of the bed, arranging the man on the soft mattress.
“You,” said Pinako, pointing at Edward. “Rest. That fever’ll go down faster if you rest. And you,” she said, pointing to Russel, “make him rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel.
“Yeah, whatever,” said Edward.
Pinako glared at him and left, slamming the door behind herself.
Russel chuckled and slid out of his suspenders, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before working on the buckle of his belt, the button and zip of his pants. Edward watched him, wiggling on the mattress.
“You okay, Ed?” said Russel, folding his pants and setting them on the dresser.
“This is your side of the bed, Russ,” grunted Edward, shifting sideways like a wounded crab.
Russel blinked at him. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry.” He knelt on the bed and grabbed Edward’s hips, shifting him to the side, pausing to allow the man to shift his upper body, hand pushing off of the mattress. By the time he was lying on the other side of the bed, they were both out of breath.
“I hate this,” whined Edward.
“Yeah, you always did hate working hard,” said Russel. He crawled up the mattress and kissed the frown on his husband’s lips. “Kidding, ba-, er, Ed.”
“Sure you were,” said Edward, still pouting. He reached up and tugged on Russel’s upper arm. “Lie down. I don’t like it when you tower over me like that.”
Russel did as he was told, tugging the sheet and light blanket up over himself and his husband before stretching out, his hand gently petting Edward’s firm stomach. “I love you, Ed,” he whispered. “I’m sorry they couldn’t do your surgery today.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Edward. “Sucks. And not just having to wait. I really hate having to get new stuff put on.” He sighed and looked up sheepishly at Russel through his bangs. “I’m sorry. I’m whining again.”
Russel kissed the top of his husband’s head. “I think you’re entitled, baby.”
~*~*~*~
Russel pulled the bedroom door closed behind himself and padded down the stairs, adjusting his suspenders and nodding silently to Pinako as he passed by the kitchen. He found his brother and Winry in the living room, Fletcher reading the latest Journal on Alchemy and State Policy, Winry tinkering with something that looked suspiciously like a big toe.
“Fletch,” he said, “can I borrow you for a bit?”
Fletcher looked up. “Borrow me?” he said.
“Yeah, from your reading. I need your help finding some herbs.”
Fletcher slid off the couch, closed his book, and stretched. “Okay,” he said. “What kind of herbs?”
“Elder flowers,” said Russel. “I’ve got peppermint in my bag already. Ed’s still got a fever.” He looked at Winry. “Do you guys have honey here?”
Winry nodded. “Big jar of it. Why?”
“Fever remedy,” said Russel. “Works like a charm whenever Fletch gets sick. I figure it’s worth a shot with Edward.”
Winry nodded. “Sounds like something I could use for the rest of my patients, if it works on Ed. There’s a shop in town that sells herbs, if you want to check there for the elder flowers. I went in once for lavender, on Fletcher’s recommendation when I was having trouble sleeping. Worked beautifully.”
Fletcher smiled and stroked his girlfriend’s hair. “Brother and I prefer fresh plants to work with,” he said. “We can dry them faster with Alchemy and break them down so that, when we steep them into a tea, we get more of the chemicals we want without the other stuff we don’t want.”
“I should have guessed,” said Winry. She stood and kissed Fletcher, deeply enough that Russel blushed and looked away, studying his cuticles until he heard Winry chuckling. “That’s Equivalent Trade for the noises you and Edward made when you thought Fletcher and I were asleep, last time I stayed with you in Central,” she said.
Russel blushed more brilliantly. “Um, yeah,” he said. “Sorry about that.” He followed his brother to the door, taking his coat from the boy and slipping it on. “Ed’s asleep right now, and Al said he and Danny would be here this afternoon. If Ed wakes up while I’m gone, tell him I’m out getting stuff that should bring his fever down. Should keep him from trying to find me and kill me for leaving him alone.”
“Okay,” said Winry, shaking her head. “I still don’t see how you can stand being married to him,” she said. “He’s so violent.”
Russel smiled, winding his scarf around his neck. “He is, but I love him,” he said. “I really do.”
Winry rolled her eyes and patted his arm. “Just wait until you get home and get to keep him from screeching at Danny,” she said. “Then we’ll see how you feel.”
Russel sighed, then followed his brother out the door, shivering from the thought of his husband’s reaction to being around his little brother’s boyfriend without his arm and leg.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
“Going to be a long night, Fletch,” he said, once they were safely out of earshot of the house.
Fletcher chuckled. “No kidding,” he said. “For every fit yours throws, I get to listen to mine complain. We should just go back to Xenotime until it’s all over.”
Russel laughed and ruffled his brother’s hair. “Love the way you think, Fletch,” he said. “Can’t leave them, though. They’d kill each other.”
“It’s true,” said Fletcher. He slipped his hand into his brother’s, gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” he said, quietly.
Russel squeezed back. “I’m glad I’ve got you too, Fletch,” he said.
~*~*~*~
Edward blinked, groggy and disoriented. “Russ?” he said, throat scratchy from sleep.
“No, Brother, it’s me,” said Al, gently stroking his brother’s hair back, away from his face. “How are you feeling? Winry said you had a fever, so she couldn’t put your arm and leg back on.”
Edward nodded, curling closer to his brother, his head pillowed on the boy’s thigh. “Yeah. Go make her change her mind. I don’t like being like this.”
Al chuckled and patted his brother’s head. “I tried already, actually. Suggested she put you on antibiotics for the infection, then go ahead and re-attach your leg, at least. I even promised to force you to do the whole bed-rest thing, but she wants to do both limbs at the same time, for the sake of your nervous system, and she can’t do that until your fever goes away and we beat the infection in your arm.”
Edward groaned. “She’s already pumped me full of antibiotics,” he said. “I just want my leg back. And my arm.”
“I know, Brother,” said Al. “I’m sorry. I did try.”
Edward looked up at his brother, his good hand squeezing the boy’s knee. “Thanks,” he said. “You know, we should get Fletcher to try. Bet she’d listen to him.”
“He already tried that,” said Winry, opening the bedroom door and holding it for Danny, who looked a bit trapped, carrying a tray of soup and sandwiches. “I told him to butt out. You’re not one of his pet plants, you know. Here, you’re mine, and you’re too expensive for me to break you. I explained that to Fletcher. With my wrench.”
“You’re a horrible girlfriend,” said Edward. He caught sight of Danny and stiffened, scowling. “And you, Broche. Get out of here. I don’t need you staring at me, too.”
Al sighed. “Brother, be nice.”
“I’m sorry,” said Danny. “Mrs. Rockbell asked me to bring this up to you. She said you haven’t eaten today.” He stood by, biting his lip nervously under the ferocious glare Edward aimed at him whenever the man wasn’t grunting and glaring at Al as the boy rearranged him on the bed, helping him sit up. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve never seen anyone like this before. Lots of my friends lost limbs in the war.”
Edward’s glare melted a little. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm,” said Danny, arranging the tray over Edward’s lap. “Some of them even have Rockbell Automail, now. It’s famous, since you have it and you’re famous.”
The glare was back in full force. “Great, so I’m a walking advertisement for Rockbell Automail now?”
“Makes up for the repairs I’ve done and not charged you for,” said Winry, leaning against the dresser across from the bed. “Now eat. You’ll get better faster if you keep your strength up.”
Edward rolled his eyes, but grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a huge bite. “You sound like Grandma,” he said.
“Inevitable,” said Winry with a sigh.
Al took two sandwiches, handing one to Danny. “Grandma said she’d put two in the ‘fridge for Fletcher and Russel,” he said. “This one’s for you.”
“Thanks,” said Danny.
“Wait a minute,” said Edward, sandwich paused halfway to his mouth. “Where’s Russ?”
“He and Fletcher went out to get stuff to make you some tea,” said Winry.
“He what?”
“Went out to get some herbs to make tea,” said Winry. “Something to knock out your fever.”
Edward beamed. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I married a plant Alchemist. Knew he’d come through for me.”
Winry rolled her eyes. “You’re just lucky he can stand you,” she said. “With your mood swings, I doubt anyone else could.”
“If it works, can you re-attach his arm and leg?” said Al, reaching out to lace his fingers with Danny’s, interrupting his brother’s angry sputtering and reducing it to an ugly scowl.
Winry shrugged. “Grandma’s call,” she said. “I don’t make decisions when it comes to Ed. He makes me want to hit him too often. Safer if Grandma decides when we wait and when we go ahead.”
Al squeezed Danny’s hand, then let go, picking up one of the bowls of soup and ladling out a bite for his brother, who was grumbling impolite things about Pinako. “Don’t be a child, Brother,” he scolded. “Eat your soup.”
Edward sighed. “Grandma’d better say I can have my arm back,” he growled. “I can’t fucking stand this anymore. The coddling and the ordering and the ... other stuff.”
Al rolled his eyes and shoved the spoonful of soup into his brother’s mouth. “You’re not the only one,” he said. “By far.”
~*~*~*~
Three hours later, legs weary and hands sore from pulling burrs and briars out of his clothing, Russel poked his head into the room he was sharing with his husband, braced for his husband’s wrath, a cup of herbal tea clutched in his hands like a peace offering. But instead of an irritable Edward, tongue loaded with the sort of rant only Edward Elric could really deliver with flare, what he found was Edward sitting, propped up on pillows, speaking excitedly with Danny Broche, of all people, a book open on his lap. He paused mid-sentence when he caught sight of his husband, greeted the man, then went back to what he was saying.
“In the legend of the Full Winter Moon, though, it’s said that Moon and Snow are related, Moon being sister to the Sun, and Snow being daughter of the Moon. So then Flame would have to be the bastard child of the family.”
Danny nodded. “There’s a legend about that, actually. Um ... something about the Fox bringing Flame, and that’s why his paws are black. It said in that story that the Fox stole Flame from its parents, but I can’t remember what the heritage was.”
“I need to find out,” said Edward, eyes glittering with mischief. “Gives me good ammunition against That Bastard.”
“General Mustang?” said Danny.
“Yeah,” said Edward. “He just barely knows enough about Ishbalan lore to know what I’m talking about when I make reference to it, so it’s really fun to use hints of it to insult him. He can’t retaliate.” He smiled up at his husband, who was laughing quietly beside Danny. “Hi, Russ.”
“Hi,” said Russel. “You must be feeling better.”
Edward shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “Broche is into Ishbalan literature, so we’ve been talking about that for awhile. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t fall asleep at the mention of their folklore.”
Russel rolled his eyes. “Not my fault I don’t find it interesting,” he said. “And you fall asleep whenever I talk about plant cell structures, so don’t go pointing your finger at me too much.”
“Hmph,” said Edward. He nodded towards the cup in Russel’s hand. “What’s that?”
“Tea,” said Russel. “Mix of elder flowers and peppermint, with a little honey to make it taste better. Fletch used to get really bad fevers, after the accident with the Red Water, so I did research and found that this combination brings fevers down. I was hoping, if we could get your fever down, Winry might be willing to attach your arm and leg later tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning.” He handed the cup to his husband. “Drink this, then I’ll go away and let you two go back to your discussion.”
Edward grinned as he eagerly took the cup from his husband. “Thanks, Russ,” he said. “Knew there was a reason I married you.”
Russel chuckled. Danny blushed and stood, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. “I’m going to go downstairs and see what Al’s up to,” he said. “Thank you for talking to me, Edward. I’ve never talked to anyone who liked this stuff, before.”
Edward swallowed a mouthful of tea and gave Danny a small smile. “You’re not bad to talk to, Broche,” he said. “We’ll have to talk about it more, once I’m ... well, not like this anymore.”
“I look forward to it,” said Danny. Then, with a shy smile to Russel, he turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him with a quiet snick. Edward watched him go, shaking his head.
“I really didn’t want to like him,” he said, swirling the last bit of his tea around in the cup, “but he’s growing on me.”
Russel chuckled and sat down in the chair Danny had been sitting in. “He’s a nice guy. I like him.”
“That’s because he’s not dating your little brother,” said Edward, “and you’d be too scared of Winry to ever voice any complaint you have about them dating.”
“That’s very true,” said Russel, sighing. “I wonder, though. Would you be so overprotective of Al if he were dating a girl?”
Edward blinked at him, then shook his head, slowly. “No,” he said. “I don’t think I’d mind a girl so much. Girls ... I don’t know. Girls don’t seem so driven by sex, you know? When you and I first ... started out, it was just sex. Falling in love came later.” He sighed, tilted the cup back and drained it. “I don’t want that for Al. It’s too risky.”
Russel reached out and took the empty cup from him, then settled back in the chair, turning the smooth enamel slowly in his hands. “I think it can be the same for girls, Ed,” he said, softly. “Winry and Fletcher are waiting to have sex, but it’s just because Fletch wants to. I’ve heard them talking. Winry’s the one really struggling with it.”
“Really?” said Edward. “Wow.” He smirked at his husband. “Must be something in the Rizenbul water, then. Well, except for Al, but he doesn’t really count because his body ...” He stopped, looking very uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” said Russel. “Well, anyway, I’ve heard your brother talking to Danny before about sex. Danny’s very patient with him. Doesn’t seem to mind waiting at all.”
Edward snorted. “Probably knew you were listening and said a bunch of stuff to make himself look good.”
“I don’t think so,” said Russel. “It was the day you and I were supposed to be in Central all day. I went home because I’d forgotten that book that was due back at the library, remember?”
“Yeah,” said Edward. “Let me guess: You went in for you book and found them cuddling together on the couch, talking in perfectly clear tones about how wonderful it was to wait, right?”
Russel laughed. “No, baby, it wasn’t like that, and I’m not so stupid as to fall for something like that.” He reached out, setting the empty cup on Edward’s bedside table. “I was going to come in the back way because my book was in the living room, and I heard them ... well, they were talking eventually. Danny is the one who stopped, when things started getting out of hand. He’s the one who told Al that they needed to stop, that he didn’t want to do anything they’d regret.”
Edward gawked at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. When Russel shook his head, Edward laughed. “Okay, so maybe Al does have the Rizenbul hormone thing, after all. Wow.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Come here, Russ,” he said. “I’m cold.”
Russel stood and stripped out of his shirt and pants, leaving them in a messy heap beside the bed, then slid under the blanket with his husband, gently kissing the man. “Danny said something very interesting, that day,” he said. “Something I think you’ll like.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” said Edward. “I’m dangerously close to not hating him anymore as it is, Russ.” He lay against his husband, toes tickling Russel’s calf. A moment passed. Then Edward sighed, shifting enough that he could reach up with his good hand and play with Russel’s hair. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Curiosity’s killing me. What’d he say?”
Russel chuckled. “Al apologized, said he felt like a prude for saying on their first date that he wanted to wait to have sex, and Danny just laughed at him. Said that he’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend before, so he didn’t mind waiting. Said it was better to wait because you can, not wait because you have to.”
Edward groaned. “Okay, yeah, that’s ... I still don’t like him, Russ. Really I don’t.”
Russel chuckled and kissed the top of his husband’s head. “I know, baby,” he said. “No-one expects you to.”
“Good,” said Edward. He nuzzled Russel’s chest, the tip of his nose brushing the younger man’s nipple, earning him a soft gasp. “You know, Russ, if things had been different, Back Then, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you like I did. You would’ve been worth waiting for.”
Russel sighed. “That’s sweet,” he said. “But you know, had things been different, Back Then, we’d not have met at all. You would have become a brilliant Alchemist, Certified by the State when you were eighteen, not twelve, and you would have ended up marrying someone from Central, not some hick from Xenotime.”
Edward grunted, pushing himself up on his good arm, just enough that he could look down into his lover’s eyes, his own narrowed in a cold glare. “Of all the regrets I have from Back Then, all the things that happened because of my arrogant mistake, all the pain and loneliness and death, you, Russel Tringham-Elric, are one of the very few things I don’t regret, one of the very few things that make me glad I wasn’t killed the night we tried to bring Mom back. And I didn’t marry ‘some hick’ from Xenotime. I married a brilliant man who keeps me on my toes, who can match me when it comes to knowledge of Alchemical theory, who turns me on and loves me and-mmph!”
It took only a second for him to relax and open his mouth, only a second more for him to melt into his husband’s embrace, into his husband’s passionate kiss. He closed his eyes, let Russel roll him onto his back, let Russel kiss him and stroke him until he could forget the hollow ache where his limbs had not been for nigh on ten years. When Russel pulled away, licking and kissing a line down his neck, his chest, pausing to nuzzle his bellybutton before tugging at Edward’s boxers down, leaving them tangled just below the knee of the man’s good leg, Edward sighed, watching his husband watch him. When Russel parted his soft pink lips, taking the tip of Edward’s cock into his mouth and sucking, just gently, sliding his lips down, little by little, until Edward felt the head of his cock bump against the back of the man’s throat, Edward arched and moaned, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Russel’s hair.
“Oh Russ,” he whispered. “Oh ... that’s ... that’s good ... mmm ...”
Russel growled and gripped his husband’s hips, holding them still as he bobbed his head, thrusting Edward’s cock into the back of his throat with the same force Edward begged him for, back in their own bed in Central. When Edward began to pant, breathlessly begging, his words nonsensical with passion, Russel released him, crawling up Edward’s body to claim the man’s mouth in a hard kiss.
“I love you, Edward Elric,” he growled, lips brushing Edward’s with every word, Edward’s panting breath bathing his face in warmth. “I love you so much.”
“Tringham-Elric,” said Edward. “And I love you too, Russ. Now get the ... the lube, Russ, and take me. Please.”
Russel reached up and squeezed his husband’s wrist, pulling it back from the bedside table where it was madly scrabbling, his other hand popping the lid to the lube, which he’d had in his pocket since morning, having originally planned to use it as a distraction for Edward against the lingering pain in his ports. “My pleasure,” he said. Then he kissed Edward, swallowing the man’s moan of pleasure as his wrist nudged Edward’s balls out of the way, his fingers wetting the ridge of skin beneath, circling Edward’s entrance only twice before pushing his index and middle fingers inside, pausing each time he felt the man’s body clench. Once his fingers were buried inside Edward’s body, twisting and wetting and scissoring, he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, wrapping his other hand around Edward’s leaking erection, tugging slowly on it, making Edward whine.
“This,” he said, voice low and hoarse, “is what I love to see in bed, Edward. You. Just you.”
And then he curled downward, taking Edward’s cock into his mouth and sucked hard, fingers thrusting into his husband’s body, brushing his prostate on every pass, teasing and stroking and stretching until Edward cried out, trembling as he came, helpless against the pleasure as his husband swallowed him, licking him clean until the last waves of pleasure had passed and Edward’s cock had begun to soften.
When he sat up, pulling his fingers free of Edward’s body, slicking his cock, Edward tried to speak, but Russel leant forward, claiming his mouth in a kiss, sharing the flavor of Edward’s own semen with him, moaning as he guided his cock forward, sinking slowly into the slick heat of his husband’s body. When the kiss ended, Edward’s eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, and the only words on his lips were:
“Yes. Oh Russ ... yes ...”
Russel moaned and, slowly, began to thrust, hips pumping steadily until Edward loosened enough around him that he could really begin to thrust, pounding into the body of the man he loved, harder and faster, too fast for him to draw out the pleasure, teasing the both of them as he often did, but it didn’t matter, not when Edward was crying out under him in abandon, not when Edward’s good hand was stretched up, bracing the man against the wall, steadying his body for Russel’s thrusts. And then Russel was coming, crying out far too loudly for propriety, but he didn’t care that they weren’t alone in the house, didn’t care that two of the most terrifying women in Amestris were just downstairs, well within earshot. All he cared about was the pleasure and the heat, the sight and sound of Edward under him, the feel of Edward’s heart pounding against the man’s breastbone, beating in counter-rhythm to Russel’s own as he slumped down on top of the older man, spent and sweaty and panting.
“Thank you,” whispered Edward. “Thank you, Russ.”
Russel pushed himself up, just enough to kiss his husband, whimpering at the brush of Edward’s tongue against his own, the sated sigh he felt brush warm against his cheek. He pulled out carefully, then dug around in his discarded pants for his handkerchief, cleaning both of them before flopping down on the mattress, lazily kissing Edward’s lips, Edward’s neck. Kissed the scars where Edward’s arm had been, long before they met.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” whispered Edward, pulling Russel close with his good arm. And when the man was asleep, warm and heavy against Edward’s side, Edward smiled.
“Even if you are sleeping on my side of the bed.”
~*~*~*~
“I don’t see why not. His butt’s sticking straight up in the air.”
Snickering. Then, “Well, you don’t really know what’s been up there. Be more accurate in his mouth, wouldn’t it?”
“Same thing that’s been in his butt’s probably been in there, though, don’t you think?”
A sigh. “Probably. Great. Just great. Where should we take it, then?”
Edward rolled over, groggy and disoriented, blinking in the dim light of the lamp beside the bed. Hovering over him were his brother and Winry, both watching him.
“What are you two talking about?” he said.
“Winry needs to check your temperature, Brother,” said Al, blushing as he tugged at the blanket, covering his sleeping brother-in-law’s naked body. “Open your mouth.”
Edward opened his mouth. “Ihrahurayng,” he said, around the thermometer.
“Hush,” said Winry.
Edward hushed. Al sighed and bent, folding Russel’s shirt, Russel’s trousers. Set them on the chair beside the bed, then folded the two pairs of boxers, lying on the floor and set them on the stack of clothing. He chuckled softly when Edward rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to help,” he said.
“Hn,” said Edward.
“Hush,” said Winry.
Edward hushed. They waited. Winry checked her watch, then leant forward, pulling the thermometer out of Edward’s mouth. Edward licked his lips. “I said, ‘I heard what you were saying,’” he said. “What makes you think-”
“We’re not deaf, that’s what,” said Al. He looked at Winry. Winry was staring at the thermometer.
“Wow,” she said. “Your fever’s gone, Ed. That stuff Russel and Fletcher made actually worked.”
“You sound surprised,” said Russel, sleepily draping his arms over Edward, pulling the man down into a sleepy embrace. “Have more faith in your boyfriend, Winry. He’s brilliant.”
Edward chuckled. “He’s only humble when he’s asleep,” he said. “Don’t wake him up. I like him like this.”
Al rolled his eyes. “Now all we have to do is figure out in what state you’re humble, Brother,” he said. “Because I’ve yet to find one.”
“I’ll get you for that,” growled Edward. “But later. Right now, I want Grandma up here, and I want my damn limbs.” He looked at Winry. “Make that happen.”
“Please,” added Russel, rolling over. Winry laughed as Al scurried over to tug on the blankets again, covering his brother-in-law and brother.
“We’re not doing a damned thing with your Automail until that infection’s gone, Eddy-boy, so you can just lay there and be quiet while your body heals,” she said. “Not having them doesn’t seem to be impeding your ability to make everyone in this house blush and want to be someplace else, so just lay there and be something other than a pain, huh?”
Edward gaped at her. Russel laughed. Al turned bright red and sighed.
“I’m going back downstairs,” he said. “Yell if you need me. Well, yell my name if you need me. I’m not coming anywhere near this room if you’re just yelling.”
Winry nodded. “Same for me. And put some clothes on. Grandma will be up in a few minutes to give you another antibiotic shot for your infection, and I don’t think she’ll take kindly to the condition the two of you are in, currently.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel.
“Yeah, yeah, said Edward. He watched his brother and Winry leave the room, then laughed, softly, kissing Russel. “Thanks,” he said, “for making things go back to normal.”
Russel kissed him back. “It’s what you keep me around for,” he said.
And Edward didn’t argue.
~*~*~*~
Home had never seemed so appealing as it did, five days later, when Russel hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder, Edward’s new metal hand clasped firmly in his own. He waited while Edward argued with the lock on the front door, which had a tendency to stick, then followed the man into the house, dropping his bag at the foot of the stairs and toeing off his shoes, stretching and sighing in the comfort of his own home.
“Missed this place,” he said, looking around.
Edward looked at him over his shoulder. “You and me both, Russ,” he said. He bent to take off his own shoes, yelping when he felt Russel press up against his backside, rubbing suggestively.
“Danny and Al won’t be here until dinnertime,” purred Russel. “Want to come show me what your new stuff can do?”
Edward sighed and shook his head, turning to kiss his husband. “Sure,” he said. “Just to make sure they work properly.”
Russel chuckled and led his husband up the stairs to their bedroom, the sound of Edward’s mismatched feet loud in the empty house.
Everything was back to normal. And Russel couldn’t have been happier.
Yeah. So what. I still have 29 Al/Danny left to go. I know, I know. But here’s this one, anyway, done in response to challenge #5, “The Harem.” I cheated, of course. And somehow, half a metric ass-ton of plot sneaked into this fic. I have absolutely no idea how or why, but when I clicked the button to paginate this monstrosity, expecting to see 6 pages, I nearly fell out of my chair at the sight of 14.
I had angst. Writing made it better. That’s the short version. The longer version is that evil car salesmen who don’t take me seriously are, well, evil, and boys who help me at WalMart, just because I’m female, but won’t help my husband because he’s not, suck almost as severely.
The really long version of that probably won’t fit into one Livejournal entry, so I’ll just leave it at that.
[EDIT]: This is not only the last of my 30_lemons challenges and a response to the prompt, but it's also chapter 11 of Empty Nest. Go figure ...
Empty Nest in its entirety:
Prologue: Prodigal Sons
Chapter 1: Awakening
Chapter 1.5: A Matter of Pride
Chapter 2: True Test
Chapter 3: Amestris Pie
Chapter 4: Waiting
Chapter 5: Allowance
Chapter 6: Change
Chapter 7: Truce
Chapter 8: Out Alone
Chapter 9: Growing Pains
Chapter 10: Resentment
[Chapter 11: Back to Normal]
Chapter 12: Perspective
Chapter 13: Understanding
Chapter 14: Distraction
Chapter 15: Silence
Chapter 16: Choose
Chapter 17: Bonds
Chapter 18: Healing
Chapter 19: Nesting
Chapter 20: The Morning After
Chapter 21: Reaction
Chapter 22: Aftershocks
Chapter 23: Goodbye
Chapter 24: Memory
Epilogue: Family
Empty Nest
Chapter Eleven
Back to Normal
by Mistress Quickly
Winry padded into the living room, gently touching Russel on the shoulder. “I think you should go be with Edward,” she said, softly. “He needs someone right now, other than me and Grandma.”
Russel leapt to his feet, and bolted from the room without another word, footsteps loud in the hallway as he hurried to the operating room where his husband had been sealed away all day, the man’s screams having been Russel’s only reassurance that he was still alive. Winry sighed and flopped down in Russel’s place, giving Fletcher a weary smile.
“Hey,” she said. “Sick of listening to your brother fret yet?”
Fletcher laughed softly and leant closer, kissing her on the lips. “I learned a long time ago to tune him out without looking like I’m not listening,” he said. “Works like a charm every time.” He laced his fingers with hers. “What’s up with Edward?”
Winry sighed. “Slight infection in one of his ports has his temperature up. Just to 99.7, but that’s enough that we can’t safely operate. Attaching Automail is traumatic enough on a healthy body. We can’t risk tasking his system when it’s fighting off infection. And besides, we’d like to be able to kill the infection now, while we can safely get at it.”
“That makes sense,” said Fletcher, “but I can see how that would be disheartening, if he’s been prepared to have it done today.” He cuddled close to his girlfriend, nuzzling the side of her neck. “Russel will cheer him up. Don’t worry.”
“Yeah,” said Winry. “That’s why I came out and got him.”
Fletcher laughed. “Aw, I thought it was just so you could have some alone time with me,” he said.
And it was nice, hearing Winry laugh. She hated attaching Edward’s Automail, almost as much as Edward hated having it attached. Fletcher found that he, selfishly, didn’t mind the delay at all, if for nothing more than his girlfriend’s happiness.
He trusted his brother to tend to Edward’s, after all.
~*~*~*~
“Hi, baby.”
Edward glared at his husband, his good hand picking at the blanket draped over his lower body and tugged it up, over the scarred tissue where his Automail arm was normally attached.
“Don’t call me that, Russ,” he said, weary and petulant, all at once. “And get out of here. I don’t need you to see me like this.”
Russel shook his head. “Don’t be silly, Ed,” he said, softly, making his way around the table of Automail parts, past the tray of surgical tools. “You don’t look all that different to me. Still look like the man I married.” He settled on the side of Edward’s bed, bending forward to kiss the man, his hand pressed into the pillow, balancing him when Edward arched forward, kissing him back, tongue slipping into Russel’s mouth, breath tickling warm across the younger man’s cheek.
“There,” he said, when Russel pulled away, flushed and licking his lips. “You got a kiss. Now get out and tell Winry to get back in here. She’s got to put my stuff back on. I can’t go for days like this.”
Russel sighed, splaying his fingers over his husband’s bare chest. “They’re not putting them back on?” he said. When Edward shook his head, Russel’s eyes widened. “Winry said you were upset about something. Didn’t say that’s what it was.”
“Yeah,” said Edward. “I’ve got an infection or something around my arm port. They said that they want to treat the infection while there’s nothing in the way. The infection bumped my temperature up a little, so now they’re not going to reattach the new stuff, and they won’t just give me back my old limbs.”
“That kind of makes sense, actually,” said Russel, his hand moving higher to play with the strands of hair that had escaped the braid he’d watched his husband wind his long hair into, earlier. “Fletch and I never work with plants that aren’t absolutely healthy to begin with.”
Edward frowned. “Yeah, but your plants can’t move around to begin with, Russ-well, except for the Venus flytraps. They can sit around and get better without changing what they do. I can’t ... do ... anything without my arm and leg! I can’t walk, can’t write, can’t ... I can barely feed myself with my left hand, Russ.” He gave his husband a pitiful look. “I’m useless without my Automail.”
“No, baby,” said Russel. “You’re not useless. You just have an excuse for me to baby you, here for a few days now. And your brother’ll be here soon to wait on you hand-and-foot, right? He and Danny said they’d leave around noon, and it’s twelve-thirty now.”
“Hand-and-foot,” said Edward, scowling.
Russel blushed. “Bad choice of words,” he said. “Sorry.”
Edward sighed. “It’s true, though, that he’ll be waiting on me. I’ve been like this before, once, when I first lost them. Winry was too small to help me around, and Grandma couldn’t always be there to do stuff for me, and when I tried crawling around, all I did was rip open the places where my arm and leg used to be, so I was ordered to stay in bed. Al took pity on me, carried me around, did what I wanted, and I’ve never felt so guilty in all my life. Here’s my little brother-my little brother-able to carry me around only because I fucked up and got him stuck as an empty suit of armor instead of a normal nine-year-old boy.” He picked at the blanket, shaking his head. “I don’t want to be like that ever again, Russ. Once was more than enough.”
Russel bent forward and kissed him, just soft pressure of lips against lips, then rested his forehead against Edward’s. “It’s different now, baby,” he said. “You’ve got me to take care of you, and Al-”
“If you think that I’m going to be cheered up by the notion that my little brother can’t remember how it was, the night I lost my arm and leg,” growled Edward, “then you are sorely mistaken.”
“Not what I was going to say,” said Russel. He stood and padded over to the table by the wall, running his finger down the wrist of Edward’s old arm. “I was going to say that Al could carry you around now, not because he’s a seven-foot-tall suit of armor, but because he’s got a strong, healthy body, and he’s got it because of you, Ed. I don’t care if you say it’s all your fault, what happened Before. Al helped you, he committed the same taboo, and you saved him, got him back to normal.”
Edward blinked at him. “If I could get out of this damn bed,” he said, “I think I’d probably hit you for saying that.”
Russel returned to his husband’s bedside, leaning close enough that his hair tickled Edward’s forehead when it fell forward. “Go for it,” he said.
Edward squirmed. “Maybe later,” he said. Then he sighed and looked up at his husband through his bangs. “Sorry, Russ. Just stresses me out, having half of Me over there on that table, and in that box, not attached to Me, over here.”
“Box?” said Russel. “Your new arm and leg are in that box?” He straightened and returned to the table, flicking open the catch on a plain wooden box that lay beside Edward’s old arm and leg, then pushed it open. Inside were Edward’s new limbs, disconnected at elbow and knee, shiny and motionless against the dark purple velveteen that lined the inside of the box. “Wow,” he said. “Winry really outdid herself with the new models.”
“Yeah,” said Edward, preening a bit. “They’re going to look nicer, too. More like real limbs.”
Russel reached out and tentatively stroked the wrist of the new arm. “It’s funny,” he said. “We’ve been married two years, now, and I’ve never seen you without your arm or leg before.” He stroked between the fingers of the metal hand. “And it’s kind of weird, thinking that this will be the hand that you’ll be writing with, when they put it on you. The hand you’ll use when we make dinner, use when we work together in the greenhouse.” He closed the box and latched it, then made his way back over to his husband, sinking down on the edge of the man’s bed. “The hand you’ll use when we make love.”
Edward blinked at him. “Yeah?” he said.
Russel kissed him, soft pressure of lips on lips. “You’ve had, what, three sets in the time I’ve known you, right?”
“Three?”
Russel nodded. “Yeah. The one you had when we first met, then the one you got when you came back from the other side of the Gate, and now this set. Three.”
Edward shrugged. “I guess so,” he said. “Why, what’s your point?”
“Just thinking,” said Russel, “that it’s almost like having a harem, like I’ve had three different lovers, if that’s really You over there, on the table, in that box.”
Edward wrinkled his nose. “What the hell are you talking about, Russ? It’s still me.”
Russel smiled. “You’re the one who said it was half of You, over there, not me.” He returned to his perch on Edward's bed, kissed his husband, then stood. “I’ll go talk to Pinako, okay? See if maybe she can figure out a way to get them back on you sooner.” He squeezed Edward’s good hand, then made his way out of the room, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the left strap of his suspenders.
Pinako was making coffee in the kitchen, which worried Russel. He’d considered drinking the coffee Pinako made, just once, but it was as thick as the oil he put on Edward’s joints, and smelled strongly of something that reminded him of gunpowder, a combination of traits he didn’t really feel he’d like to try in a beverage. Swallowing hard, he leant against the doorfacing, trying to look nonchalant.
“No,” said the old woman.
Russel blinked at her, his mouth hanging open.
“Not until his fever’s gone,” Pinako elucidated.
“Oh,” said Russel. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” said Pinako. “He’ll be glad you asked.”
Russel went back to his husband’s side, shaken. “She said no,” he said.
Edward sighed. “You didn’t even get to ask, did you?” When Russel gave him a traumatized look, Edward waved his hand. “Nevermind. She say how long?”
“Until your fever goes down,” said Russel. “However long that takes.”
“Fuck,” whispered Edward, thumping his head back against the pillow. “I hate this, Russ. Hate being a fucking cripple.”
Russel didn’t know what to say. He laced his fingers with his husband’s, squeezing the man’s good hand, his other hand stroking Edward’s side through the blanket, soft circular strokes like he’d seen Edward give Al when the boy was upset over a nightmare, or melancholy over a fight with Danny that he didn’t trust himself to discuss with his overprotective older brother. Edward looked so small without his limbs, the blanket hanging over his ribs, flat where his arms should have been, and behind Russel, the blanket rose over Edward’s flesh leg, the ridge of bone and muscle somehow thin-looking without its prosthetic mate. All the years he’d followed Edward’s journeys, reading whatever newspapers he could get his hands on, Russel had never really considered the man he loved so passionately in terms of mortality, had never seen Edward as vulnerable, as weak.
He didn’t like it.
“I think I might know of something that can help, baby,” he said. “Will you be okay until I come back? I need to go get some stuff, just for a bit.”
They heard the door open, Pinako slipping inside, her arms crossed over her chest. Edward scowled at his husband. “I’ll be fine, Russ,” he said. “I can’t move around all that much, but I’m not a baby.”
“Indeed, you’re not,” said Pinako. “Far too heavy for me or Winry to carry. Russel, if you’re going to be leaving, get him upstairs to your room first, please.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel. He pulled back the blanket covering his husband, ignoring Edward’s protests that he didn’t want Russel to see him in such a state. “Quiet, baby. I’ve seen you slumped over the toilet puking before, carried you back to bed even though you’d not bathed in several days. This can’t be any worse than that.”
Edward struggled, grabbing at the blanket with his good hand. “That was different, Russ,” he said. “I’m ... I look weird without my stuff.”
Russel rolled his eyes and tugged the blanket all the way off of his husband’s body, leaving the man totally exposed on the operating bed, flailing in his boxers. “You look the same to me,” he said, softly. “Still the short-tempered, short-statured Edward Elric I married. Now, how do you want me to carry you? Right side to my chest or left?”
Edward moaned. “Russ, just leave me, please. I don’t-hey!”
“Put your arm around my neck. I don’t want to crush it, carrying you.”
Grumbling, Edward did as he was told, wrapping his arm around Russel’s neck, sucking in a sharp breath when the man lifted him. Russel was gentle, cradling the stump of Edward’s leg against his tight stomach, hand holding the hip of Edward’s good leg, his other arm wrapped firmly around the man’s ribs, just beneath the scars where Edward’s arm should have been.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said, softly, turning and leaving the room, Pinako holding the door for him.
“Don’t call me that,” said Edward, resting his head miserably against Russel’s collarbone.
“Sorry,” said Russel. He made his way up the stairs, navigating slowly around the banister at the top, waiting for Pinako to open the bedroom door for him. Edward grunted in pain when Russel shifted him, settling him on the side of the bed, arranging the man on the soft mattress.
“You,” said Pinako, pointing at Edward. “Rest. That fever’ll go down faster if you rest. And you,” she said, pointing to Russel, “make him rest.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel.
“Yeah, whatever,” said Edward.
Pinako glared at him and left, slamming the door behind herself.
Russel chuckled and slid out of his suspenders, tugging his shirt over his head and dropping it to the floor before working on the buckle of his belt, the button and zip of his pants. Edward watched him, wiggling on the mattress.
“You okay, Ed?” said Russel, folding his pants and setting them on the dresser.
“This is your side of the bed, Russ,” grunted Edward, shifting sideways like a wounded crab.
Russel blinked at him. “Oh,” he said. “Sorry.” He knelt on the bed and grabbed Edward’s hips, shifting him to the side, pausing to allow the man to shift his upper body, hand pushing off of the mattress. By the time he was lying on the other side of the bed, they were both out of breath.
“I hate this,” whined Edward.
“Yeah, you always did hate working hard,” said Russel. He crawled up the mattress and kissed the frown on his husband’s lips. “Kidding, ba-, er, Ed.”
“Sure you were,” said Edward, still pouting. He reached up and tugged on Russel’s upper arm. “Lie down. I don’t like it when you tower over me like that.”
Russel did as he was told, tugging the sheet and light blanket up over himself and his husband before stretching out, his hand gently petting Edward’s firm stomach. “I love you, Ed,” he whispered. “I’m sorry they couldn’t do your surgery today.”
“Yeah, me too,” said Edward. “Sucks. And not just having to wait. I really hate having to get new stuff put on.” He sighed and looked up sheepishly at Russel through his bangs. “I’m sorry. I’m whining again.”
Russel kissed the top of his husband’s head. “I think you’re entitled, baby.”
~*~*~*~
Russel pulled the bedroom door closed behind himself and padded down the stairs, adjusting his suspenders and nodding silently to Pinako as he passed by the kitchen. He found his brother and Winry in the living room, Fletcher reading the latest Journal on Alchemy and State Policy, Winry tinkering with something that looked suspiciously like a big toe.
“Fletch,” he said, “can I borrow you for a bit?”
Fletcher looked up. “Borrow me?” he said.
“Yeah, from your reading. I need your help finding some herbs.”
Fletcher slid off the couch, closed his book, and stretched. “Okay,” he said. “What kind of herbs?”
“Elder flowers,” said Russel. “I’ve got peppermint in my bag already. Ed’s still got a fever.” He looked at Winry. “Do you guys have honey here?”
Winry nodded. “Big jar of it. Why?”
“Fever remedy,” said Russel. “Works like a charm whenever Fletch gets sick. I figure it’s worth a shot with Edward.”
Winry nodded. “Sounds like something I could use for the rest of my patients, if it works on Ed. There’s a shop in town that sells herbs, if you want to check there for the elder flowers. I went in once for lavender, on Fletcher’s recommendation when I was having trouble sleeping. Worked beautifully.”
Fletcher smiled and stroked his girlfriend’s hair. “Brother and I prefer fresh plants to work with,” he said. “We can dry them faster with Alchemy and break them down so that, when we steep them into a tea, we get more of the chemicals we want without the other stuff we don’t want.”
“I should have guessed,” said Winry. She stood and kissed Fletcher, deeply enough that Russel blushed and looked away, studying his cuticles until he heard Winry chuckling. “That’s Equivalent Trade for the noises you and Edward made when you thought Fletcher and I were asleep, last time I stayed with you in Central,” she said.
Russel blushed more brilliantly. “Um, yeah,” he said. “Sorry about that.” He followed his brother to the door, taking his coat from the boy and slipping it on. “Ed’s asleep right now, and Al said he and Danny would be here this afternoon. If Ed wakes up while I’m gone, tell him I’m out getting stuff that should bring his fever down. Should keep him from trying to find me and kill me for leaving him alone.”
“Okay,” said Winry, shaking her head. “I still don’t see how you can stand being married to him,” she said. “He’s so violent.”
Russel smiled, winding his scarf around his neck. “He is, but I love him,” he said. “I really do.”
Winry rolled her eyes and patted his arm. “Just wait until you get home and get to keep him from screeching at Danny,” she said. “Then we’ll see how you feel.”
Russel sighed, then followed his brother out the door, shivering from the thought of his husband’s reaction to being around his little brother’s boyfriend without his arm and leg.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
“Going to be a long night, Fletch,” he said, once they were safely out of earshot of the house.
Fletcher chuckled. “No kidding,” he said. “For every fit yours throws, I get to listen to mine complain. We should just go back to Xenotime until it’s all over.”
Russel laughed and ruffled his brother’s hair. “Love the way you think, Fletch,” he said. “Can’t leave them, though. They’d kill each other.”
“It’s true,” said Fletcher. He slipped his hand into his brother’s, gave it a squeeze. “I’m glad I’ve got you,” he said, quietly.
Russel squeezed back. “I’m glad I’ve got you too, Fletch,” he said.
~*~*~*~
Edward blinked, groggy and disoriented. “Russ?” he said, throat scratchy from sleep.
“No, Brother, it’s me,” said Al, gently stroking his brother’s hair back, away from his face. “How are you feeling? Winry said you had a fever, so she couldn’t put your arm and leg back on.”
Edward nodded, curling closer to his brother, his head pillowed on the boy’s thigh. “Yeah. Go make her change her mind. I don’t like being like this.”
Al chuckled and patted his brother’s head. “I tried already, actually. Suggested she put you on antibiotics for the infection, then go ahead and re-attach your leg, at least. I even promised to force you to do the whole bed-rest thing, but she wants to do both limbs at the same time, for the sake of your nervous system, and she can’t do that until your fever goes away and we beat the infection in your arm.”
Edward groaned. “She’s already pumped me full of antibiotics,” he said. “I just want my leg back. And my arm.”
“I know, Brother,” said Al. “I’m sorry. I did try.”
Edward looked up at his brother, his good hand squeezing the boy’s knee. “Thanks,” he said. “You know, we should get Fletcher to try. Bet she’d listen to him.”
“He already tried that,” said Winry, opening the bedroom door and holding it for Danny, who looked a bit trapped, carrying a tray of soup and sandwiches. “I told him to butt out. You’re not one of his pet plants, you know. Here, you’re mine, and you’re too expensive for me to break you. I explained that to Fletcher. With my wrench.”
“You’re a horrible girlfriend,” said Edward. He caught sight of Danny and stiffened, scowling. “And you, Broche. Get out of here. I don’t need you staring at me, too.”
Al sighed. “Brother, be nice.”
“I’m sorry,” said Danny. “Mrs. Rockbell asked me to bring this up to you. She said you haven’t eaten today.” He stood by, biting his lip nervously under the ferocious glare Edward aimed at him whenever the man wasn’t grunting and glaring at Al as the boy rearranged him on the bed, helping him sit up. “Besides, it’s not like I’ve never seen anyone like this before. Lots of my friends lost limbs in the war.”
Edward’s glare melted a little. “Really?”
“Mmm-hmm,” said Danny, arranging the tray over Edward’s lap. “Some of them even have Rockbell Automail, now. It’s famous, since you have it and you’re famous.”
The glare was back in full force. “Great, so I’m a walking advertisement for Rockbell Automail now?”
“Makes up for the repairs I’ve done and not charged you for,” said Winry, leaning against the dresser across from the bed. “Now eat. You’ll get better faster if you keep your strength up.”
Edward rolled his eyes, but grabbed one of the sandwiches and took a huge bite. “You sound like Grandma,” he said.
“Inevitable,” said Winry with a sigh.
Al took two sandwiches, handing one to Danny. “Grandma said she’d put two in the ‘fridge for Fletcher and Russel,” he said. “This one’s for you.”
“Thanks,” said Danny.
“Wait a minute,” said Edward, sandwich paused halfway to his mouth. “Where’s Russ?”
“He and Fletcher went out to get stuff to make you some tea,” said Winry.
“He what?”
“Went out to get some herbs to make tea,” said Winry. “Something to knock out your fever.”
Edward beamed. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why I married a plant Alchemist. Knew he’d come through for me.”
Winry rolled her eyes. “You’re just lucky he can stand you,” she said. “With your mood swings, I doubt anyone else could.”
“If it works, can you re-attach his arm and leg?” said Al, reaching out to lace his fingers with Danny’s, interrupting his brother’s angry sputtering and reducing it to an ugly scowl.
Winry shrugged. “Grandma’s call,” she said. “I don’t make decisions when it comes to Ed. He makes me want to hit him too often. Safer if Grandma decides when we wait and when we go ahead.”
Al squeezed Danny’s hand, then let go, picking up one of the bowls of soup and ladling out a bite for his brother, who was grumbling impolite things about Pinako. “Don’t be a child, Brother,” he scolded. “Eat your soup.”
Edward sighed. “Grandma’d better say I can have my arm back,” he growled. “I can’t fucking stand this anymore. The coddling and the ordering and the ... other stuff.”
Al rolled his eyes and shoved the spoonful of soup into his brother’s mouth. “You’re not the only one,” he said. “By far.”
~*~*~*~
Three hours later, legs weary and hands sore from pulling burrs and briars out of his clothing, Russel poked his head into the room he was sharing with his husband, braced for his husband’s wrath, a cup of herbal tea clutched in his hands like a peace offering. But instead of an irritable Edward, tongue loaded with the sort of rant only Edward Elric could really deliver with flare, what he found was Edward sitting, propped up on pillows, speaking excitedly with Danny Broche, of all people, a book open on his lap. He paused mid-sentence when he caught sight of his husband, greeted the man, then went back to what he was saying.
“In the legend of the Full Winter Moon, though, it’s said that Moon and Snow are related, Moon being sister to the Sun, and Snow being daughter of the Moon. So then Flame would have to be the bastard child of the family.”
Danny nodded. “There’s a legend about that, actually. Um ... something about the Fox bringing Flame, and that’s why his paws are black. It said in that story that the Fox stole Flame from its parents, but I can’t remember what the heritage was.”
“I need to find out,” said Edward, eyes glittering with mischief. “Gives me good ammunition against That Bastard.”
“General Mustang?” said Danny.
“Yeah,” said Edward. “He just barely knows enough about Ishbalan lore to know what I’m talking about when I make reference to it, so it’s really fun to use hints of it to insult him. He can’t retaliate.” He smiled up at his husband, who was laughing quietly beside Danny. “Hi, Russ.”
“Hi,” said Russel. “You must be feeling better.”
Edward shrugged. “I guess,” he said. “Broche is into Ishbalan literature, so we’ve been talking about that for awhile. It’s nice to have someone who doesn’t fall asleep at the mention of their folklore.”
Russel rolled his eyes. “Not my fault I don’t find it interesting,” he said. “And you fall asleep whenever I talk about plant cell structures, so don’t go pointing your finger at me too much.”
“Hmph,” said Edward. He nodded towards the cup in Russel’s hand. “What’s that?”
“Tea,” said Russel. “Mix of elder flowers and peppermint, with a little honey to make it taste better. Fletch used to get really bad fevers, after the accident with the Red Water, so I did research and found that this combination brings fevers down. I was hoping, if we could get your fever down, Winry might be willing to attach your arm and leg later tonight, or maybe tomorrow morning.” He handed the cup to his husband. “Drink this, then I’ll go away and let you two go back to your discussion.”
Edward grinned as he eagerly took the cup from his husband. “Thanks, Russ,” he said. “Knew there was a reason I married you.”
Russel chuckled. Danny blushed and stood, closing the book and tucking it under his arm. “I’m going to go downstairs and see what Al’s up to,” he said. “Thank you for talking to me, Edward. I’ve never talked to anyone who liked this stuff, before.”
Edward swallowed a mouthful of tea and gave Danny a small smile. “You’re not bad to talk to, Broche,” he said. “We’ll have to talk about it more, once I’m ... well, not like this anymore.”
“I look forward to it,” said Danny. Then, with a shy smile to Russel, he turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him with a quiet snick. Edward watched him go, shaking his head.
“I really didn’t want to like him,” he said, swirling the last bit of his tea around in the cup, “but he’s growing on me.”
Russel chuckled and sat down in the chair Danny had been sitting in. “He’s a nice guy. I like him.”
“That’s because he’s not dating your little brother,” said Edward, “and you’d be too scared of Winry to ever voice any complaint you have about them dating.”
“That’s very true,” said Russel, sighing. “I wonder, though. Would you be so overprotective of Al if he were dating a girl?”
Edward blinked at him, then shook his head, slowly. “No,” he said. “I don’t think I’d mind a girl so much. Girls ... I don’t know. Girls don’t seem so driven by sex, you know? When you and I first ... started out, it was just sex. Falling in love came later.” He sighed, tilted the cup back and drained it. “I don’t want that for Al. It’s too risky.”
Russel reached out and took the empty cup from him, then settled back in the chair, turning the smooth enamel slowly in his hands. “I think it can be the same for girls, Ed,” he said, softly. “Winry and Fletcher are waiting to have sex, but it’s just because Fletch wants to. I’ve heard them talking. Winry’s the one really struggling with it.”
“Really?” said Edward. “Wow.” He smirked at his husband. “Must be something in the Rizenbul water, then. Well, except for Al, but he doesn’t really count because his body ...” He stopped, looking very uncomfortable.
“Yeah,” said Russel. “Well, anyway, I’ve heard your brother talking to Danny before about sex. Danny’s very patient with him. Doesn’t seem to mind waiting at all.”
Edward snorted. “Probably knew you were listening and said a bunch of stuff to make himself look good.”
“I don’t think so,” said Russel. “It was the day you and I were supposed to be in Central all day. I went home because I’d forgotten that book that was due back at the library, remember?”
“Yeah,” said Edward. “Let me guess: You went in for you book and found them cuddling together on the couch, talking in perfectly clear tones about how wonderful it was to wait, right?”
Russel laughed. “No, baby, it wasn’t like that, and I’m not so stupid as to fall for something like that.” He reached out, setting the empty cup on Edward’s bedside table. “I was going to come in the back way because my book was in the living room, and I heard them ... well, they were talking eventually. Danny is the one who stopped, when things started getting out of hand. He’s the one who told Al that they needed to stop, that he didn’t want to do anything they’d regret.”
Edward gawked at him. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said. When Russel shook his head, Edward laughed. “Okay, so maybe Al does have the Rizenbul hormone thing, after all. Wow.” He patted the mattress beside him. “Come here, Russ,” he said. “I’m cold.”
Russel stood and stripped out of his shirt and pants, leaving them in a messy heap beside the bed, then slid under the blanket with his husband, gently kissing the man. “Danny said something very interesting, that day,” he said. “Something I think you’ll like.”
“I don’t want to hear it,” said Edward. “I’m dangerously close to not hating him anymore as it is, Russ.” He lay against his husband, toes tickling Russel’s calf. A moment passed. Then Edward sighed, shifting enough that he could reach up with his good hand and play with Russel’s hair. “Okay, fine,” he said. “Curiosity’s killing me. What’d he say?”
Russel chuckled. “Al apologized, said he felt like a prude for saying on their first date that he wanted to wait to have sex, and Danny just laughed at him. Said that he’s never had a boyfriend or girlfriend before, so he didn’t mind waiting. Said it was better to wait because you can, not wait because you have to.”
Edward groaned. “Okay, yeah, that’s ... I still don’t like him, Russ. Really I don’t.”
Russel chuckled and kissed the top of his husband’s head. “I know, baby,” he said. “No-one expects you to.”
“Good,” said Edward. He nuzzled Russel’s chest, the tip of his nose brushing the younger man’s nipple, earning him a soft gasp. “You know, Russ, if things had been different, Back Then, I wouldn’t have thrown myself at you like I did. You would’ve been worth waiting for.”
Russel sighed. “That’s sweet,” he said. “But you know, had things been different, Back Then, we’d not have met at all. You would have become a brilliant Alchemist, Certified by the State when you were eighteen, not twelve, and you would have ended up marrying someone from Central, not some hick from Xenotime.”
Edward grunted, pushing himself up on his good arm, just enough that he could look down into his lover’s eyes, his own narrowed in a cold glare. “Of all the regrets I have from Back Then, all the things that happened because of my arrogant mistake, all the pain and loneliness and death, you, Russel Tringham-Elric, are one of the very few things I don’t regret, one of the very few things that make me glad I wasn’t killed the night we tried to bring Mom back. And I didn’t marry ‘some hick’ from Xenotime. I married a brilliant man who keeps me on my toes, who can match me when it comes to knowledge of Alchemical theory, who turns me on and loves me and-mmph!”
It took only a second for him to relax and open his mouth, only a second more for him to melt into his husband’s embrace, into his husband’s passionate kiss. He closed his eyes, let Russel roll him onto his back, let Russel kiss him and stroke him until he could forget the hollow ache where his limbs had not been for nigh on ten years. When Russel pulled away, licking and kissing a line down his neck, his chest, pausing to nuzzle his bellybutton before tugging at Edward’s boxers down, leaving them tangled just below the knee of the man’s good leg, Edward sighed, watching his husband watch him. When Russel parted his soft pink lips, taking the tip of Edward’s cock into his mouth and sucking, just gently, sliding his lips down, little by little, until Edward felt the head of his cock bump against the back of the man’s throat, Edward arched and moaned, reaching out to tangle his fingers in Russel’s hair.
“Oh Russ,” he whispered. “Oh ... that’s ... that’s good ... mmm ...”
Russel growled and gripped his husband’s hips, holding them still as he bobbed his head, thrusting Edward’s cock into the back of his throat with the same force Edward begged him for, back in their own bed in Central. When Edward began to pant, breathlessly begging, his words nonsensical with passion, Russel released him, crawling up Edward’s body to claim the man’s mouth in a hard kiss.
“I love you, Edward Elric,” he growled, lips brushing Edward’s with every word, Edward’s panting breath bathing his face in warmth. “I love you so much.”
“Tringham-Elric,” said Edward. “And I love you too, Russ. Now get the ... the lube, Russ, and take me. Please.”
Russel reached up and squeezed his husband’s wrist, pulling it back from the bedside table where it was madly scrabbling, his other hand popping the lid to the lube, which he’d had in his pocket since morning, having originally planned to use it as a distraction for Edward against the lingering pain in his ports. “My pleasure,” he said. Then he kissed Edward, swallowing the man’s moan of pleasure as his wrist nudged Edward’s balls out of the way, his fingers wetting the ridge of skin beneath, circling Edward’s entrance only twice before pushing his index and middle fingers inside, pausing each time he felt the man’s body clench. Once his fingers were buried inside Edward’s body, twisting and wetting and scissoring, he pulled away, sitting back on his haunches, wrapping his other hand around Edward’s leaking erection, tugging slowly on it, making Edward whine.
“This,” he said, voice low and hoarse, “is what I love to see in bed, Edward. You. Just you.”
And then he curled downward, taking Edward’s cock into his mouth and sucked hard, fingers thrusting into his husband’s body, brushing his prostate on every pass, teasing and stroking and stretching until Edward cried out, trembling as he came, helpless against the pleasure as his husband swallowed him, licking him clean until the last waves of pleasure had passed and Edward’s cock had begun to soften.
When he sat up, pulling his fingers free of Edward’s body, slicking his cock, Edward tried to speak, but Russel leant forward, claiming his mouth in a kiss, sharing the flavor of Edward’s own semen with him, moaning as he guided his cock forward, sinking slowly into the slick heat of his husband’s body. When the kiss ended, Edward’s eyes were closed, cheeks flushed, and the only words on his lips were:
“Yes. Oh Russ ... yes ...”
Russel moaned and, slowly, began to thrust, hips pumping steadily until Edward loosened enough around him that he could really begin to thrust, pounding into the body of the man he loved, harder and faster, too fast for him to draw out the pleasure, teasing the both of them as he often did, but it didn’t matter, not when Edward was crying out under him in abandon, not when Edward’s good hand was stretched up, bracing the man against the wall, steadying his body for Russel’s thrusts. And then Russel was coming, crying out far too loudly for propriety, but he didn’t care that they weren’t alone in the house, didn’t care that two of the most terrifying women in Amestris were just downstairs, well within earshot. All he cared about was the pleasure and the heat, the sight and sound of Edward under him, the feel of Edward’s heart pounding against the man’s breastbone, beating in counter-rhythm to Russel’s own as he slumped down on top of the older man, spent and sweaty and panting.
“Thank you,” whispered Edward. “Thank you, Russ.”
Russel pushed himself up, just enough to kiss his husband, whimpering at the brush of Edward’s tongue against his own, the sated sigh he felt brush warm against his cheek. He pulled out carefully, then dug around in his discarded pants for his handkerchief, cleaning both of them before flopping down on the mattress, lazily kissing Edward’s lips, Edward’s neck. Kissed the scars where Edward’s arm had been, long before they met.
“I love you,” he whispered.
“I love you too,” whispered Edward, pulling Russel close with his good arm. And when the man was asleep, warm and heavy against Edward’s side, Edward smiled.
“Even if you are sleeping on my side of the bed.”
~*~*~*~
“I don’t see why not. His butt’s sticking straight up in the air.”
Snickering. Then, “Well, you don’t really know what’s been up there. Be more accurate in his mouth, wouldn’t it?”
“Same thing that’s been in his butt’s probably been in there, though, don’t you think?”
A sigh. “Probably. Great. Just great. Where should we take it, then?”
Edward rolled over, groggy and disoriented, blinking in the dim light of the lamp beside the bed. Hovering over him were his brother and Winry, both watching him.
“What are you two talking about?” he said.
“Winry needs to check your temperature, Brother,” said Al, blushing as he tugged at the blanket, covering his sleeping brother-in-law’s naked body. “Open your mouth.”
Edward opened his mouth. “Ihrahurayng,” he said, around the thermometer.
“Hush,” said Winry.
Edward hushed. Al sighed and bent, folding Russel’s shirt, Russel’s trousers. Set them on the chair beside the bed, then folded the two pairs of boxers, lying on the floor and set them on the stack of clothing. He chuckled softly when Edward rolled his eyes.
“Just trying to help,” he said.
“Hn,” said Edward.
“Hush,” said Winry.
Edward hushed. They waited. Winry checked her watch, then leant forward, pulling the thermometer out of Edward’s mouth. Edward licked his lips. “I said, ‘I heard what you were saying,’” he said. “What makes you think-”
“We’re not deaf, that’s what,” said Al. He looked at Winry. Winry was staring at the thermometer.
“Wow,” she said. “Your fever’s gone, Ed. That stuff Russel and Fletcher made actually worked.”
“You sound surprised,” said Russel, sleepily draping his arms over Edward, pulling the man down into a sleepy embrace. “Have more faith in your boyfriend, Winry. He’s brilliant.”
Edward chuckled. “He’s only humble when he’s asleep,” he said. “Don’t wake him up. I like him like this.”
Al rolled his eyes. “Now all we have to do is figure out in what state you’re humble, Brother,” he said. “Because I’ve yet to find one.”
“I’ll get you for that,” growled Edward. “But later. Right now, I want Grandma up here, and I want my damn limbs.” He looked at Winry. “Make that happen.”
“Please,” added Russel, rolling over. Winry laughed as Al scurried over to tug on the blankets again, covering his brother-in-law and brother.
“We’re not doing a damned thing with your Automail until that infection’s gone, Eddy-boy, so you can just lay there and be quiet while your body heals,” she said. “Not having them doesn’t seem to be impeding your ability to make everyone in this house blush and want to be someplace else, so just lay there and be something other than a pain, huh?”
Edward gaped at her. Russel laughed. Al turned bright red and sighed.
“I’m going back downstairs,” he said. “Yell if you need me. Well, yell my name if you need me. I’m not coming anywhere near this room if you’re just yelling.”
Winry nodded. “Same for me. And put some clothes on. Grandma will be up in a few minutes to give you another antibiotic shot for your infection, and I don’t think she’ll take kindly to the condition the two of you are in, currently.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Russel.
“Yeah, yeah, said Edward. He watched his brother and Winry leave the room, then laughed, softly, kissing Russel. “Thanks,” he said, “for making things go back to normal.”
Russel kissed him back. “It’s what you keep me around for,” he said.
And Edward didn’t argue.
~*~*~*~
Home had never seemed so appealing as it did, five days later, when Russel hitched his bag up higher on his shoulder, Edward’s new metal hand clasped firmly in his own. He waited while Edward argued with the lock on the front door, which had a tendency to stick, then followed the man into the house, dropping his bag at the foot of the stairs and toeing off his shoes, stretching and sighing in the comfort of his own home.
“Missed this place,” he said, looking around.
Edward looked at him over his shoulder. “You and me both, Russ,” he said. He bent to take off his own shoes, yelping when he felt Russel press up against his backside, rubbing suggestively.
“Danny and Al won’t be here until dinnertime,” purred Russel. “Want to come show me what your new stuff can do?”
Edward sighed and shook his head, turning to kiss his husband. “Sure,” he said. “Just to make sure they work properly.”
Russel chuckled and led his husband up the stairs to their bedroom, the sound of Edward’s mismatched feet loud in the empty house.
Everything was back to normal. And Russel couldn’t have been happier.