Full Metal Alchemist, "Empty Nest 2: True Test," E/R, D/A, NC-17
This story may seem ... a touch familiar. It’s a cannibalized chimera of “True Test,” but you should read the whole thing, because there are sections that are 100% brand new (w00t!) and may or may not have plot. There’s actually quite a bit of that in this arc. Huh. Funny, that.
This chapter, though, still manages to be NC-17, because I just couldn’t sacrifice the lemon scene. I mean really, it’s Russel doing yummy things to Edward. Would you chop that out?
Didn’t think so.
Off I go to my sister's house two hours north of home. In the ice. Yay. If I don't come back, pester SailorMac to find out what happens in the rest of the arc. She beta'd it all for me. Know why? Because she rocks out HARDCORE.
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 Two
True Test
by Mistress Quickly
Russel had seen his husband cry before, certainly. Saw him cry the first time they met after Edward returned from the other side of the Gate. Saw him cry on his twentieth birthday when Al gave him a miniature suit of armor, complete with a tiny suitcase and a built-to-scale Military pocket-watch. Saw him cry after Fletcher and Al tried to teach him to roller-skate, when he was perched on the closed lid of the toilet, holding Fletcher’s hand while Al swabbed his knee with peroxide.
But three days before the Amestris Military State Alchemists’ Examination, Edward was crying over absolutely nothing, something Russel certainly never expected Edward to cry about.
The older man rolled over in bed, the mid-noon sun catching his hair and making it shine, even though he hadn’t washed it in several days, streaks of salt where his tears have tracked down his cheeks crusting on his smooth skin. Russel wrinkled his nose.
“Baby,” he said, “you smell horrible. Come on, get up and have something to eat and take a bath. Your clothes have got to be rotting on you, you’ve been lying here in them so long.”
“’M not hungry, Russ,” said Edward, voice gravelly.
“I know, Ed,” said Russel. “But you’ve got to eat something. You didn’t have dinner last night.”
Edward laughed, the sound eerily similar to the noise he’d made the last time he was sick and hanging over the toilet, trying to throw up. “I haven’t moved Russ,” he said. “I don’t need to eat.”
“Ed, come on, this is ridiculous,” said Russel, standing long enough to tug the blankets down, then sitting back down and yanking his husband into his lap. “Let’s just go to Central, huh? The exam’s not for a few days. We could make it there before he tests.”
Edward sobbed a little at the suggestion. “NO!” he said into Russel’s neck. “I said I wasn’t going, and I meant it, Russ.” He wiggled out of his husband’s lap and did his best turtle imitation under the blankets. “Leave me alone.”
Russel patted his back one more time, then did as he was told, closing the door to the bedroom they’d shared since Edward’s return. He padded down the stairs as quietly as he could, hands in his pockets, making his way into the sitting room, digging out Edward’s book of phone numbers.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, his mother used to say, whenever the lemons from Belsio were too sour and she was offering her sons an extra spoonful of sugar for their lemonade.
“Well, Mama,” said Russel to the empty sitting room, “I’m desperate.”
He picked up the phone and dialed, then wait for it to ring.
~*~*~*~
“Thanks for coming,” said Russel to the blonde standing on the porch, nodding to the severe-looking brunette behind him. “I really appreciate it.”
“Where is he?” said the brunette.
“Upstairs.”
“Then let me at him,” she said, pushing past the blonde and breezing past Russel on her way up the stairs. The blonde smiled shyly at Russel.
“Maria always saw Edward as a pseudo-son,” he said. “She’s got her game-face on, but she really was happy when General Mustang asked us to come out here and-” They heard a crash, some scrabbling, and muffled protests from Edward, followed by a door slamming and water running “-help.”
Russel stepped aside and motioned for the man to come in, closing the door behind them against the chill wind whipping around the house. “Thanks for coming,” he said again. “I’m Russel, by the way.”
“Danny Broche,” said the blonde, pulling his hand out of his pocket and shaking Russel’s, his skin warm against Russel’s calloused hand. “You may not remember me, but I knew you and your brother a few years back. Maria and I have been assigned as his and Al’s guardians in Central.”
Russel's eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide. “Yeah, I remember you! You saved my brother and me, back then.”
Danny blushed and fidgeted. “Bet you’re nervous about the upcoming Exam,” he said. “Your brother’s been studying really hard.”
“I am nervous,” said Russel. “But not nearly as nervous as Ed is about Al.” He looked up to the top of the stairs, where the sounds of water and shouting were growing progressively louder. “He’s still furious that Al’s taking the exam, swears he won’t go to Central to cheer him on, but he’s barely gotten out of bed since Al and Fletcher left.”
Danny nodded. “That’s what the General said. Said Edward had to be at the Exams no matter what, and that it was our job to see to it that he made it.”
Russel smiled. “Good old Mustang, making a favor for me into an order. If it works, though, I’m all for it,” he said. “He owes Edward this, anyway, for suggesting that Al take the Exam in the first place.”
There was a crash and Ed began howling, the woman-Maria-shouting at him that it was his own damned fault, and won’t he just hold still for one bleeding minute? Russel chuckled and started for the stairs. Danny hesitated, distinctly uncomfortable.
“Want to stay here and guard the door, in case he makes a break for it?” said Russel, pausing on the second step.
Danny nodded and firmly planted himself in front of the door like a good soldier, watching Russel take the steps two at a time, ready to face whatever fit Edward decided to throw.
~*~*~*~
“No.”
Maria crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Edward, the expression made far more severe by the crease that ran under the mole by her eye. Russel idly wondered if she’d had lessons from Colonel Mustang, glancing surreptitiously over her body to see if she carried a pistol somewhere like the Colonel always did, oddly relieved when he didn’t see a bulge for one.
“Don’t make me arrest you and take you to Central as a prisoner, Elric,” Maria growled. “I will, don’t think I won’t.”
“I’m not going,” said Edward, hands on his hips.
“One step at a time, sir,” said Danny, blushing and looking away. “Pants, please.”
“You won’t take me out of here naked,” said Edward. “I know you won’t. It’s illegal for me to be outside like this, and if you make me go out like this, then it’s ... something. There’s a law against it, I know there is, because Havoc got Fury locked out of the dorm in his towel once, then Breda stole the towel, and he and Havoc got in trouble for it, not Fury.”
“In that case, Edward,” said Russel, quietly, picking up a beautiful ivy plant from the window. “You’re going peacefully, because I don’t feel like bailing you or them out of jail.”
Edward turned, golden eyes fiery with a passion Russel had so painfully missed seeing in the long weeks Edward spent near-comatose in their bed, and opened his mouth, probably ready to say something deliciously obnoxious, but Russel calmly activated the array he’d sketched onto the clay pot, sending ivy-vines shooting out at his husband, wrapping the man in soft leaves from his waist halfway down to his knees. Edward stared at him for a split second, then clapped his hands, forming a blade out of his metal hand. Maria reacted first, lunging forward, as did Russel, though her motives are aimed more at preventing Edward from unclothing himself, where Russel was more interested in his lover not emasculating himself. They pinned him to the floor and held him while Danny blushed and fumbled the man into a pair of pants, all the while assaulted by Edward’s cries of protest.
“Jeez, baby, you make it sound like someone’s raping you up here,” said Russel, sitting back on his heels and breathing hard.
Edward snarled. “You’d react like this, too,” he said, “if you had vines stuck up your ass.”
The look on Danny’s face melted even Maria’s severe glare, the woman shaking with laughter as she and Danny turned away long enough for Russel to free his lover of the impromptu organic underwear.
~*~*~*~
“No.”
Russel sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ed. There’s obviously nowhere else for us to stay. People book rooms for the Exam months in advance.”
Edward snarled at his husband. “Russel Nash Tringham-Elric, I said no.”
“Too bad,” said Russel, taking his husband’s hand in his own and tugging. “We’re staying here, then tomorrow, we’re going into the City to cheer for our brothers.”
Edward steeled himself, ready to fight, golden eyes meeting Russel’s in a challenge. “Russ,” he growled, “you know you can’t force me into that house. Don’t make me hurt you, getting away. Please.” He gave a sharp tug, nearly freeing himself from Russel’s grip. “This is just adding insult to injury, and I won’t stand for it.”
Russel turned and looked at the Mustang’s house, the cheerful green door with the wreath of brass jingle-bells decorating the front, Maria and Danny standing, motionless, watching him fight with his stubborn, hurting husband. “Would it have been better,” he said, softly, returning his gaze to his husband’s scowling face, “for me to have just left you at home, wallowing in guilt and anger, and come here alone to watch Al and Fletcher test? Would you have preferred that, Edward? Because I don’t think Al would ever forgive me if I didn’t do everything in my power to drag you here, not to mention just how hurt Fletcher would be if I missed his Testing.”
“I don’t want him taking that Exam, Russ,” said Edward. “You know that.”
“But he’s still taking it, Ed,” said Russel. “And you should be proud of him for making his own choices, if nothing else.” He tugged on his husband’s wrist, just a little, not nearly enough to move the man. “Someday, you’ll thank me for this.”
Edward opened his mouth to argue, twisted his wrist out of Russel’s grip, and started to back away, just as the jingle-bell wreath on the door clanged, the door opening to reveal every reason for Edward to come to Central, even against his will, every reason for Edward to be bathed by his former bodyguard as though he were a dog, every reason for Edward to be subjected to ivy-vine underwear and the shame of being restrained and dressed by a stranger.
“BROTHER!!!”
Al streaked past his bodyguards and brother-in-law like a whirlwind, knocking his brother to the ground, hugging him and sobbing and thanking him and praising God and babbling nonsense as he held his big brother close in the dying twilight. Behind him, Fletcher made his way down the walk and wrapped his arms around his brother, far more civilized, but no less enthusiastic in his greeting.
“Thanks, Brother,” he said. “I knew you’d get him down here.”
Russel ruffled his little brother’s hair. “No problem, Fletch,” he said. “It was no problem at all.”
And at the look Edward gave him when Al finally let him up and led him into their mentor’s home, grinning at Roy like the child he truly was, Russel knew that it was true.
In the grand scheme of things, it had been no problem at all.
~*~*~*~
Four days later, Roy pulled up behind the car Maria was driving and parked, stepping out to shake Fletcher’s hand and pat Russel on the back.
“Thank you again,” said Russel, “for sending reinforcements. I really can’t imagine what would have happened if Ed had missed his brother’s Exam.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Roy. “After all, torturing Full Metal has always been one of my favorite pastimes. You should know that by now.”
Russel laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Well, thanks again.”
“Anytime,” said Roy. “And good luck with him. He and Al may have ... adjustments to make, here in the next few days, depending, of course, on how honest Al is with his older brother.”
“I’m sorry,” said Russel. “I don’t quite follow.”
Roy winked at him. “Watch,” he said.
And so Russel watched. Watched Edward roll his eyes and go ragdoll-limp in Maria’s arms when the woman hugged him. Watched him step back and blush, ducking his head and saying something that made the woman smile. Watched him swell up and let loose a loud rant about his height.
Watched him completely miss the long hug Al shared with Danny Broche, watched him miss Al stretching up to kiss Danny’s lips, soft and gentle.
“Oh dear,” he said, sighing. Beside him, Fletcher chuckled.
“I promised Al I wouldn’t tell,” he said. “You’d better do the same, Brother, or I’ll move to Rizenbul and never speak to you again.”
Russel snorted. “Why on earth would I want to tell him, Fletch? I value my life.” He leered up at Roy. “And my sex life. I’ll let Al handle this one.”
Roy laughed and slapped him on the back. “Good man, Russel. Got your priorities straight, that’s important.”
“Bastard! Get your hands off my husband,” said Edward, glaring at Roy while Maria laughed and made her way over to Fletcher. She bent and hugged the boy, ruffling his hair.
“We’ll see you later, I hope,” she said.
“Absolutely,” said Fletcher.
The brothers stood on the walk and waved, watching until the Military cars had rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Then Russel dug his key out of his pocket and made his way up the walk to the front door of their home, his brother right behind him. Edward slid his arm around his brother’s waist, squeezing him in a sideways hug.
“I’m sorry, Al,” he said, softly.
Al draped his arm over his brother’s shoulders and squeezed back. “Already forgotten,” he said. “You were there, and you said you were proud of me.”
Edward stopped and turned, tugging his brother into a real hug. “I was,” he said. “And I am.”
Al hugged him back, then stepped away, his brother following just a step behind, into the warm house, Fletcher quietly closing the door behind them.
~*~*~*~
It was good, saying goodnight to Fletcher and Al, good to hear the boys giggling as they bathed, padding up the stairs in their bathrobes, calling goodnight to their older brothers. It was good to stand at the sink, washing dishes while Edward rinsed and dried them, the man’s eyes bright and cheeks pink, more alive than he’d been since his brother’s departure for Central.
And it was good to be in bed, making love to his husband, feeling the man’s body slick with sweat, tasting salty and clean from their bath. Good to watch Edward arch and cry out when Russel hit his prostate, good to hear Edward’s heels whispering against the soft sheets of their bed as he spread his legs wider apart. All his whining that Russel was mean for making him wash the sheets when they got home, all Fletcher’s joking about the house’s condition proving that the two of them were hopeless when he and Al are away, seemed worth it to the younger man, now that he had Edward down his throat and his fingers deep inside the body of the man he loved.
Weeks had passed since they’d last made love, so neither expected their lovemaking to last long. Edward’s attempt at foreplay in the bathing room, flesh hand wrapped around Russel’s cock and tongue in the man’s mouth, ended abruptly when Russel came all over him, so it seemed only fair for Russel to help his husband increase his stamina as well. He swirled his tongue over the tip of Edward’s cock, just to hear him whine.
Just a bit more, and he’ll come for me, Russel thought. A few more hard sucks, and I’ll get to swallow him.
“Russel ... Russel ... oh, Russ, Russ, Russ ...”
And it was good, the explosion of Edward’s ecstasy. He was beautiful at orgasm, back arched, legs spread in an erotic display of his flexibility, heels digging into the bed, coming hard in Russel’s mouth, warm and wet and beautiful. Russel swallowed him and gently pulled his fingers out of the man’s faintly clenching body, sitting back and grabbing the wet washcloth they’d brought from the bath, cleaning his hand before lying down beside his husband, pulling the man close for a sleepy, messy kiss.
“Love you, Ed,” he whispered against Edward’s lips.
“Love you, too, Russ,” said Edward.. “Let me go now?”
Russel chuckled and leant across his husband to touch the array on the ivy plant’s clay pot. Obediently, the vines unbound Edward’s wrists and snaked back, resting innocently over the lip of the pot. Edward rubbed his flesh wrist and smiled up at Russel.
“Okay,” he said. “I forgive your stupid plant already.”
“Good,” said Russel, settling back beside him. “Ready for me to start working on getting a little forgiveness of my own?”
Edward shook his head. “Tomorrow, Russ,” he said. “I’m beat.”
Russel wrapped his arms around his husband’s warm body, spooned around him, sighing as sleep slowly crept over his sated body. It was good to be home, he decided. Good to have his lover back, good to have his brother and Al back where he could say goodnight to them after dinner. In the quiet of the house, he heard Fletcher’s bed creak, heard the boy pad across the room next door to slip into Al’s bed, something Russel had noticed the boy had taken to doing ever since his return.
“Next year,” he heard his brother say to Al in the stillness. “Next year, we’ll pass for sure.”
Russel chuckled and kissed Edward’s hair. “You just might forgive me, by then,” he whispered into Edward’s hair, stirring the loose strands while Edward slept on, oblivious. Slowly, he fell asleep, warm and safe and happy.
We’ll deal with next year when it arrives, and not a moment before, he reassured himself. I think we’ve passed this year’s test with flying colors.
~*~*~*~
Twenty miles away, tangled in his bedsheets, listening to Akil snore, Danny Broche smiled.
It was a beautiful feeling, being in love. Even if he was just a bit lonely.
This chapter, though, still manages to be NC-17, because I just couldn’t sacrifice the lemon scene. I mean really, it’s Russel doing yummy things to Edward. Would you chop that out?
Didn’t think so.
Off I go to my sister's house two hours north of home. In the ice. Yay. If I don't come back, pester SailorMac to find out what happens in the rest of the arc. She beta'd it all for me. Know why? Because she rocks out HARDCORE.
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 Two
True Test
by Mistress Quickly
Russel had seen his husband cry before, certainly. Saw him cry the first time they met after Edward returned from the other side of the Gate. Saw him cry on his twentieth birthday when Al gave him a miniature suit of armor, complete with a tiny suitcase and a built-to-scale Military pocket-watch. Saw him cry after Fletcher and Al tried to teach him to roller-skate, when he was perched on the closed lid of the toilet, holding Fletcher’s hand while Al swabbed his knee with peroxide.
But three days before the Amestris Military State Alchemists’ Examination, Edward was crying over absolutely nothing, something Russel certainly never expected Edward to cry about.
The older man rolled over in bed, the mid-noon sun catching his hair and making it shine, even though he hadn’t washed it in several days, streaks of salt where his tears have tracked down his cheeks crusting on his smooth skin. Russel wrinkled his nose.
“Baby,” he said, “you smell horrible. Come on, get up and have something to eat and take a bath. Your clothes have got to be rotting on you, you’ve been lying here in them so long.”
“’M not hungry, Russ,” said Edward, voice gravelly.
“I know, Ed,” said Russel. “But you’ve got to eat something. You didn’t have dinner last night.”
Edward laughed, the sound eerily similar to the noise he’d made the last time he was sick and hanging over the toilet, trying to throw up. “I haven’t moved Russ,” he said. “I don’t need to eat.”
“Ed, come on, this is ridiculous,” said Russel, standing long enough to tug the blankets down, then sitting back down and yanking his husband into his lap. “Let’s just go to Central, huh? The exam’s not for a few days. We could make it there before he tests.”
Edward sobbed a little at the suggestion. “NO!” he said into Russel’s neck. “I said I wasn’t going, and I meant it, Russ.” He wiggled out of his husband’s lap and did his best turtle imitation under the blankets. “Leave me alone.”
Russel patted his back one more time, then did as he was told, closing the door to the bedroom they’d shared since Edward’s return. He padded down the stairs as quietly as he could, hands in his pockets, making his way into the sitting room, digging out Edward’s book of phone numbers.
Desperate times call for desperate measures, his mother used to say, whenever the lemons from Belsio were too sour and she was offering her sons an extra spoonful of sugar for their lemonade.
“Well, Mama,” said Russel to the empty sitting room, “I’m desperate.”
He picked up the phone and dialed, then wait for it to ring.
~*~*~*~
“Thanks for coming,” said Russel to the blonde standing on the porch, nodding to the severe-looking brunette behind him. “I really appreciate it.”
“Where is he?” said the brunette.
“Upstairs.”
“Then let me at him,” she said, pushing past the blonde and breezing past Russel on her way up the stairs. The blonde smiled shyly at Russel.
“Maria always saw Edward as a pseudo-son,” he said. “She’s got her game-face on, but she really was happy when General Mustang asked us to come out here and-” They heard a crash, some scrabbling, and muffled protests from Edward, followed by a door slamming and water running “-help.”
Russel stepped aside and motioned for the man to come in, closing the door behind them against the chill wind whipping around the house. “Thanks for coming,” he said again. “I’m Russel, by the way.”
“Danny Broche,” said the blonde, pulling his hand out of his pocket and shaking Russel’s, his skin warm against Russel’s calloused hand. “You may not remember me, but I knew you and your brother a few years back. Maria and I have been assigned as his and Al’s guardians in Central.”
Russel's eyebrows shot up, eyes going wide. “Yeah, I remember you! You saved my brother and me, back then.”
Danny blushed and fidgeted. “Bet you’re nervous about the upcoming Exam,” he said. “Your brother’s been studying really hard.”
“I am nervous,” said Russel. “But not nearly as nervous as Ed is about Al.” He looked up to the top of the stairs, where the sounds of water and shouting were growing progressively louder. “He’s still furious that Al’s taking the exam, swears he won’t go to Central to cheer him on, but he’s barely gotten out of bed since Al and Fletcher left.”
Danny nodded. “That’s what the General said. Said Edward had to be at the Exams no matter what, and that it was our job to see to it that he made it.”
Russel smiled. “Good old Mustang, making a favor for me into an order. If it works, though, I’m all for it,” he said. “He owes Edward this, anyway, for suggesting that Al take the Exam in the first place.”
There was a crash and Ed began howling, the woman-Maria-shouting at him that it was his own damned fault, and won’t he just hold still for one bleeding minute? Russel chuckled and started for the stairs. Danny hesitated, distinctly uncomfortable.
“Want to stay here and guard the door, in case he makes a break for it?” said Russel, pausing on the second step.
Danny nodded and firmly planted himself in front of the door like a good soldier, watching Russel take the steps two at a time, ready to face whatever fit Edward decided to throw.
~*~*~*~
“No.”
Maria crossed her arms over her chest and scowled at Edward, the expression made far more severe by the crease that ran under the mole by her eye. Russel idly wondered if she’d had lessons from Colonel Mustang, glancing surreptitiously over her body to see if she carried a pistol somewhere like the Colonel always did, oddly relieved when he didn’t see a bulge for one.
“Don’t make me arrest you and take you to Central as a prisoner, Elric,” Maria growled. “I will, don’t think I won’t.”
“I’m not going,” said Edward, hands on his hips.
“One step at a time, sir,” said Danny, blushing and looking away. “Pants, please.”
“You won’t take me out of here naked,” said Edward. “I know you won’t. It’s illegal for me to be outside like this, and if you make me go out like this, then it’s ... something. There’s a law against it, I know there is, because Havoc got Fury locked out of the dorm in his towel once, then Breda stole the towel, and he and Havoc got in trouble for it, not Fury.”
“In that case, Edward,” said Russel, quietly, picking up a beautiful ivy plant from the window. “You’re going peacefully, because I don’t feel like bailing you or them out of jail.”
Edward turned, golden eyes fiery with a passion Russel had so painfully missed seeing in the long weeks Edward spent near-comatose in their bed, and opened his mouth, probably ready to say something deliciously obnoxious, but Russel calmly activated the array he’d sketched onto the clay pot, sending ivy-vines shooting out at his husband, wrapping the man in soft leaves from his waist halfway down to his knees. Edward stared at him for a split second, then clapped his hands, forming a blade out of his metal hand. Maria reacted first, lunging forward, as did Russel, though her motives are aimed more at preventing Edward from unclothing himself, where Russel was more interested in his lover not emasculating himself. They pinned him to the floor and held him while Danny blushed and fumbled the man into a pair of pants, all the while assaulted by Edward’s cries of protest.
“Jeez, baby, you make it sound like someone’s raping you up here,” said Russel, sitting back on his heels and breathing hard.
Edward snarled. “You’d react like this, too,” he said, “if you had vines stuck up your ass.”
The look on Danny’s face melted even Maria’s severe glare, the woman shaking with laughter as she and Danny turned away long enough for Russel to free his lover of the impromptu organic underwear.
~*~*~*~
“No.”
Russel sighed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Ed. There’s obviously nowhere else for us to stay. People book rooms for the Exam months in advance.”
Edward snarled at his husband. “Russel Nash Tringham-Elric, I said no.”
“Too bad,” said Russel, taking his husband’s hand in his own and tugging. “We’re staying here, then tomorrow, we’re going into the City to cheer for our brothers.”
Edward steeled himself, ready to fight, golden eyes meeting Russel’s in a challenge. “Russ,” he growled, “you know you can’t force me into that house. Don’t make me hurt you, getting away. Please.” He gave a sharp tug, nearly freeing himself from Russel’s grip. “This is just adding insult to injury, and I won’t stand for it.”
Russel turned and looked at the Mustang’s house, the cheerful green door with the wreath of brass jingle-bells decorating the front, Maria and Danny standing, motionless, watching him fight with his stubborn, hurting husband. “Would it have been better,” he said, softly, returning his gaze to his husband’s scowling face, “for me to have just left you at home, wallowing in guilt and anger, and come here alone to watch Al and Fletcher test? Would you have preferred that, Edward? Because I don’t think Al would ever forgive me if I didn’t do everything in my power to drag you here, not to mention just how hurt Fletcher would be if I missed his Testing.”
“I don’t want him taking that Exam, Russ,” said Edward. “You know that.”
“But he’s still taking it, Ed,” said Russel. “And you should be proud of him for making his own choices, if nothing else.” He tugged on his husband’s wrist, just a little, not nearly enough to move the man. “Someday, you’ll thank me for this.”
Edward opened his mouth to argue, twisted his wrist out of Russel’s grip, and started to back away, just as the jingle-bell wreath on the door clanged, the door opening to reveal every reason for Edward to come to Central, even against his will, every reason for Edward to be bathed by his former bodyguard as though he were a dog, every reason for Edward to be subjected to ivy-vine underwear and the shame of being restrained and dressed by a stranger.
“BROTHER!!!”
Al streaked past his bodyguards and brother-in-law like a whirlwind, knocking his brother to the ground, hugging him and sobbing and thanking him and praising God and babbling nonsense as he held his big brother close in the dying twilight. Behind him, Fletcher made his way down the walk and wrapped his arms around his brother, far more civilized, but no less enthusiastic in his greeting.
“Thanks, Brother,” he said. “I knew you’d get him down here.”
Russel ruffled his little brother’s hair. “No problem, Fletch,” he said. “It was no problem at all.”
And at the look Edward gave him when Al finally let him up and led him into their mentor’s home, grinning at Roy like the child he truly was, Russel knew that it was true.
In the grand scheme of things, it had been no problem at all.
~*~*~*~
Four days later, Roy pulled up behind the car Maria was driving and parked, stepping out to shake Fletcher’s hand and pat Russel on the back.
“Thank you again,” said Russel, “for sending reinforcements. I really can’t imagine what would have happened if Ed had missed his brother’s Exam.”
“It was my pleasure,” said Roy. “After all, torturing Full Metal has always been one of my favorite pastimes. You should know that by now.”
Russel laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. Well, thanks again.”
“Anytime,” said Roy. “And good luck with him. He and Al may have ... adjustments to make, here in the next few days, depending, of course, on how honest Al is with his older brother.”
“I’m sorry,” said Russel. “I don’t quite follow.”
Roy winked at him. “Watch,” he said.
And so Russel watched. Watched Edward roll his eyes and go ragdoll-limp in Maria’s arms when the woman hugged him. Watched him step back and blush, ducking his head and saying something that made the woman smile. Watched him swell up and let loose a loud rant about his height.
Watched him completely miss the long hug Al shared with Danny Broche, watched him miss Al stretching up to kiss Danny’s lips, soft and gentle.
“Oh dear,” he said, sighing. Beside him, Fletcher chuckled.
“I promised Al I wouldn’t tell,” he said. “You’d better do the same, Brother, or I’ll move to Rizenbul and never speak to you again.”
Russel snorted. “Why on earth would I want to tell him, Fletch? I value my life.” He leered up at Roy. “And my sex life. I’ll let Al handle this one.”
Roy laughed and slapped him on the back. “Good man, Russel. Got your priorities straight, that’s important.”
“Bastard! Get your hands off my husband,” said Edward, glaring at Roy while Maria laughed and made her way over to Fletcher. She bent and hugged the boy, ruffling his hair.
“We’ll see you later, I hope,” she said.
“Absolutely,” said Fletcher.
The brothers stood on the walk and waved, watching until the Military cars had rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Then Russel dug his key out of his pocket and made his way up the walk to the front door of their home, his brother right behind him. Edward slid his arm around his brother’s waist, squeezing him in a sideways hug.
“I’m sorry, Al,” he said, softly.
Al draped his arm over his brother’s shoulders and squeezed back. “Already forgotten,” he said. “You were there, and you said you were proud of me.”
Edward stopped and turned, tugging his brother into a real hug. “I was,” he said. “And I am.”
Al hugged him back, then stepped away, his brother following just a step behind, into the warm house, Fletcher quietly closing the door behind them.
~*~*~*~
It was good, saying goodnight to Fletcher and Al, good to hear the boys giggling as they bathed, padding up the stairs in their bathrobes, calling goodnight to their older brothers. It was good to stand at the sink, washing dishes while Edward rinsed and dried them, the man’s eyes bright and cheeks pink, more alive than he’d been since his brother’s departure for Central.
And it was good to be in bed, making love to his husband, feeling the man’s body slick with sweat, tasting salty and clean from their bath. Good to watch Edward arch and cry out when Russel hit his prostate, good to hear Edward’s heels whispering against the soft sheets of their bed as he spread his legs wider apart. All his whining that Russel was mean for making him wash the sheets when they got home, all Fletcher’s joking about the house’s condition proving that the two of them were hopeless when he and Al are away, seemed worth it to the younger man, now that he had Edward down his throat and his fingers deep inside the body of the man he loved.
Weeks had passed since they’d last made love, so neither expected their lovemaking to last long. Edward’s attempt at foreplay in the bathing room, flesh hand wrapped around Russel’s cock and tongue in the man’s mouth, ended abruptly when Russel came all over him, so it seemed only fair for Russel to help his husband increase his stamina as well. He swirled his tongue over the tip of Edward’s cock, just to hear him whine.
Just a bit more, and he’ll come for me, Russel thought. A few more hard sucks, and I’ll get to swallow him.
“Russel ... Russel ... oh, Russ, Russ, Russ ...”
And it was good, the explosion of Edward’s ecstasy. He was beautiful at orgasm, back arched, legs spread in an erotic display of his flexibility, heels digging into the bed, coming hard in Russel’s mouth, warm and wet and beautiful. Russel swallowed him and gently pulled his fingers out of the man’s faintly clenching body, sitting back and grabbing the wet washcloth they’d brought from the bath, cleaning his hand before lying down beside his husband, pulling the man close for a sleepy, messy kiss.
“Love you, Ed,” he whispered against Edward’s lips.
“Love you, too, Russ,” said Edward.. “Let me go now?”
Russel chuckled and leant across his husband to touch the array on the ivy plant’s clay pot. Obediently, the vines unbound Edward’s wrists and snaked back, resting innocently over the lip of the pot. Edward rubbed his flesh wrist and smiled up at Russel.
“Okay,” he said. “I forgive your stupid plant already.”
“Good,” said Russel, settling back beside him. “Ready for me to start working on getting a little forgiveness of my own?”
Edward shook his head. “Tomorrow, Russ,” he said. “I’m beat.”
Russel wrapped his arms around his husband’s warm body, spooned around him, sighing as sleep slowly crept over his sated body. It was good to be home, he decided. Good to have his lover back, good to have his brother and Al back where he could say goodnight to them after dinner. In the quiet of the house, he heard Fletcher’s bed creak, heard the boy pad across the room next door to slip into Al’s bed, something Russel had noticed the boy had taken to doing ever since his return.
“Next year,” he heard his brother say to Al in the stillness. “Next year, we’ll pass for sure.”
Russel chuckled and kissed Edward’s hair. “You just might forgive me, by then,” he whispered into Edward’s hair, stirring the loose strands while Edward slept on, oblivious. Slowly, he fell asleep, warm and safe and happy.
We’ll deal with next year when it arrives, and not a moment before, he reassured himself. I think we’ve passed this year’s test with flying colors.
~*~*~*~
Twenty miles away, tangled in his bedsheets, listening to Akil snore, Danny Broche smiled.
It was a beautiful feeling, being in love. Even if he was just a bit lonely.