Full Metal Alchemist, "Empty Nest 17: Bonds," Ed/Russel, Danny/Al, NC-17
I like this chapter. Others might not, but I’m rather partial to it. For one thing, it felt like I was tugging it out of my veins, it was so hard to write in places, and for another, it worked like Domesticity 13 ... I wrote along, got to the end and realized “Wow, I’m done!” Love it when that happens.
Additionally, there’s suspenders!bondage at the end.
This chapter is NC-17 because it’s got sex in it. *gasp* Lots of sex in it. Al/Danny and Ed/Russel sex, no less, so YATTA! *snicker*
Dedicated to musemachine for being awesome, and to sailormac for being my co-conspirator in bloody everything.
Oh, and the obligatory list of links to the other chapters is ... here!
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 Seventeen
Bonds
by Mistress Quickly
The house was quiet and dark when Al returned, arm wrapped around Danny’s back, his head resting on the man’s shoulder. The light above the front porch wasn’t even on, something Edward had never forgotten to do, not once since he and Al had first moved in with the Tringham brothers.
“Looks like the war’s over,” Al said softly, pulling away from Danny. “Must’ve been bad, though. The porch light’s not on, and they didn’t lock up.”
Danny hesitated. “You sure it’s a good idea for me to be here, then, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” said Al. “Brother actually ordered me to call you. He knows how lonely I’ve been lately, without you. Not fair for us to be apart if he’s got Russel again, right?” He pushed open the door and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind his lover. “As long as we don’t wake anyone up, we should be fine.”
“Okay,” whispered Danny. “If you say so.”
They slipped off their shoes and sneaked up the stairs, into the room Al hadn’t slept in for two weeks, Danny waiting until Al had closed the door before tugging the boy into his arms and kissing him, deep and slow, sighing when Al kissed back, rubbing his body against Danny’s.
“Missed you,” he whispered. “Missed you so much, Danny.”
“Missed you too,” said Danny, fumbling blindly with the elastic holding Al’s ponytail in place, tugging it out and dropping it to the floor, kissing his lover again as he threaded his fingers in the boy’s soft hair. “Really, really missed you.”
They fell into bed, wrapped in the nightlight-lit darkness of the room, kissing and stroking each other, Al wiggling under his lover until Danny noticed well enough to help him with the buttons of the shirt he’d tugged on over the t-shirt he usually slept in, arguing briefly with the zip of his jeans. He shivered at the feel of Al’s hands rubbing all over his body, pausing to pinch his nipples through his shirt, squeezing his butt almost hard enough to hurt, just right to tease, moaning softly as he rolled them, pulling Al into his lap.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he breathed, sliding one hand up the boy’s body, feeling for a hard nipple, the other moving down Al’s thighs, groping for the boy’s erection. “Anything, Al, anything you want, just tell me.”
Al shuddered and thrust his hips forward, head falling back, mouth open in a gasp. “Oh Danny,” he whispered. “Oh ... oh ... anything ... everything ... Whatever you do to yourself. Do it to me?”
Danny nodded, peppering kisses across his lover’s lips and jaw, down Al’s throat to settle at the slope of the boy’s neck, sucking at the soft skin. “Lube,” he whispered, licking the red skin with the very tip of his tongue, tickling Al enough for the boy to squirm away from the touch. “Do you have anything we can use as lube?”
Al whimpered and leant to the side, reaching into his bedside table and pulling out a small bottle of lotion. “Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Danny, then rolling to the side and wriggling out of his jeans and briefs. He watched Danny do the same, then settled across the man’s lap, legs spread and cheeks flushed, eyes tinged ever-so-slightly with apprehension. “Finally get to lose our virginity, huh?” he said.
Danny chuckled. “Oh sweetheart,” he said. “I’m not going to do that. You said you wanted what I do to myself, and where I’ve thought about being able to fuck myself, I’ve yet figured out how to actually do it. I imagine it would hurt.”
“Probably,” said Al, giggling but looking distinctly relieved. “Then what-”
“You’ll see,” said Danny.
Al wrinkled his nose at his lover, both hands cupping Danny’s face, tilting it up as he leant down for a kiss, slipping his tongue into the man’s mouth just as Danny squeezed lotion onto his index finger and pressed it to the cleft of Al’s perfect butt, sliding gently forward, seeking the boy’s entrance. He rubbed the tip of his finger over it, teasing the firm muscle, growling and kissing Al more deeply when he felt the boy’s anus begin to relax, fluttering under his finger, allowing it to slip in, just a bit.
“Ah! Danny!” whimpered Al, rubbing his erection against his lover’s, the friction just enough to tease, nowhere near enough to satisfy. “That’s ... that’s really good.”
“You are tight,” whispered Danny, steadily pushing his finger into Al’s body, twisting it a little once it was buried in the boy’s slick heat. “Oh Al ... have you ever done this before?”
Al shook his head. “Not inside, no. Just the outside ... ngh, feels good, Danny ...”
Danny hummed and kissed him, working his finger in and out of Al’s body, pulling out and adding more lotion to his hand before dropping the bottle to the soft sheets beside his thigh, massaging the boy’s entrance with his index and middle fingers as he reached up to tease on of Al’s nipples. When Al arched his back, the hand that wasn’t holding onto Danny for balance blindly seeking one of his lover’s nipples, Danny groaned and pushed both fingers in, thrusting shallowly until they were both buried in the heat of Al’s body, the boy’s incredible tightness making his own cock throb and leak.
“Love you,” he whispered, dragging his fingers down Al’s chest, past the faint, soft hair of the boy’s belly, through the tempting caramel curls around the base of Al’s erection. He wrapped his hand around Al’s cock and twisted, slowly, up and down, spreading the tantalizing mixture of his own and Al’s precome around the length before building a rhythm, quickly matching pace with his fingers, closing his eyes as he sought Al’s prostate.
There was no question when he found it. Al arched and began riding his hand, panting and thrusting, throwing his head back as he started to come, sobbing Danny’s name in a choked whisper as he pulsed semen all over the man, thick and warm and more copious than Danny had ever seen him come before. When it was over, when Danny was gently withdrawing his fingers, Al slumped forward, head on Danny’s shoulder, long hair tickling the man’s chest, sticking in the splashes of his own semen. Danny turned to kiss his lover’s temple, wrapping his semen-wet hand around his own erection and tugged, stroking only a few times before he came, wet and messy all over both of them.
“’M sorry,” murmured Al, lifting his head. “I was going to suck on you, just ... ngh. I’m just ...”
Danny chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then,” he said, kissing Al softly on the lips. “You are so beautiful when you come, Al. I can’t imagine anything better than getting to watch you come.”
Even in the dark, he could tell Al was blushing. “Is that what you do when you touch yourself?” he said. “With the fingers and twisting your hand and everything?”
“Mmm-hmm,” said Danny, nodding. “Even the nipple thing, ever since you told me about your fetish. I’d never really touched mine before, but ... mmm. I’m glad you suggested it.”
Al giggled. “You’re teasing me, you know that right?” he said. “Giving me mental images of you playing with your nipples.”
“Guilty as charged,” said Danny, rubbing the tip of his nose against Al’s.
“I know now why you want me to take you, the first time,” said Al. “I had no idea it would feel so good, having ... something inside me.” He sighed. “You’ll take me too, eventually, right?”
“Absolutely,” said Danny, all teasing gone from his voice. “I would do anything to make you feel good, Al.”
Al sighed and kissed him, deep and slow. “I love you, Danny,” he said. “You do make me feel good.”
Danny smiled, feeling an odd clenching in his chest. “You make me feel good, too, Al,” he said. “Not just for sex, either.”
“Never just for sex,” said Al, shaking his head. He slid a bit stiffly out of Danny’s lap and picked a t-shirt out of his laundry hamper, tossing it to Danny before picking out another for himself. “It’s my week to do the laundry,” he said, “so these should work. Just enough so we don’t drip on the way to the bathing room.”
Danny laughed softly and swiped semen from his chest, shivering a little at the thought of his semen mixed with Al’s, the thought of having evidence of their passion smeared across his skin. When he was no longer dripping with the stuff, he stood and rolled the t-shirt in on itself, then set it in the hamper, slipping into his jeans while Al re-tied his long hair.
They made their way silently into the bathing room, locking the door behind themselves before stripping and cleaning each other with warm, wet washcloths, kissing and washing until their lips were swollen and their skin was clean. Damp and shivering, they made their way back to Al’s bedroom, stripping out of their jeans in preference for flannel sleeping pants, snuggling under the covers and kissing until they were too sleepy to do it properly anymore.
“Love you, Danny,” murmured Al, tucking his head under his lover’s chin and sighing, happily.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” said Danny. “Goodnight.”
Two rooms away, Edward sighed, staring at the ceiling, his husband’s back pressed against his arm, his body cold under the covers.
“Goodnight, Al,” he whispered to the darkness, sleepless as the quiet of the house settled around him.
~*~*~*~
“Damnit!”
Edward looked up from the annotations he was putting beside an array used for soil permeability and blinked at his younger brother, watching the young man scrub furiously at the ends of his long hair.
“You okay, Al?” he said.
“Yeah,” said Al. “Just smeared the ink of the letter I was writing when my hair brushed it. I should just cut it off, really. Only grew it out because I didn’t have time to get it cut, and then I was just used to it, so ...” He sighed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout.”
Edward laughed softly and slipped his glasses off, setting them and his pencil down as he rose and made his way over to his brother. “Mine drives me nuts, too,” he said. “Here, see if this helps.”
Gently, he gathered Al’s hair back and finger-combed it into three sections, winding it carefully into a neat braid, holding the end of the braid with his metal hand as he tugged the tie out of his own braid and secured Al’s. He stepped back and smiled at his handiwork. “Better?” he said.
Al reached back and touched his braid, then nodded. “Much, thank you,” he said. “I wore it braided, originally, when I first left Sensei’s and started searching for you alone. But so many people thought I was you that I had to start wearing it in a ponytail. I guess I just got used to it, after awhile.”
Edward pulled him close, resting his chin on the top of his brother’s head. “I’m sorry I was gone, Al,” he said. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you, trying to survive in the mess I’d made of things. Wish I’d been here to help you.”
“You saved my life, Brother,” said Al, patting his brother’s forearm. “Rose told me about it. Told me how beautiful you looked, how at-peace, when you stepped into the array and disappeared. You gave up everything for me for four years, then went and did it again when you stepped into that array, then did it again by living over There alone. Don’t ever apologize, Brother. You have nothing to apologize for.” He gave his brother’s metal hand a squeeze. “I’m glad I have you, Brother,” he said. “I really am.”
“I’m glad I have you, too, Al,” said Edward. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Brother,” said Al. “I love you too.”
~*~*~*~
Russel leant against the doorframe of his brother’s room, watching the boy pack. Socks, underwear, shirts, pants, and books were stacked neatly in the trunk Winry had brought with her for him to use. Beside it lay an organized mess of small boxes and baggies of herbs, a few notebooks scattered amongst them, one open with hasty sketches drawn in it, starred notes in Fletcher’s smooth handwriting, marked for the boy’s attention, later.
It amazed Russel just how little his younger brother owned.
“You know you can always come back, anytime you want, right?” said Russel. “You don’t have to call or anything. Door’s always open.”
Fletcher’s hands paused over a baggie of dried lavender. “Thank you,” he said, coolly.
“Even if you don’t need to come back, you know?” said Russel, quickly. “Just to visit. Because, well ... I’m going to miss you, you know.”
Fletcher resumed packing, silent and calm. Russel swallowed hard and padded quietly into the room, stopping just a breath away from his little brother.
“I’m so sorry I’ve been such an ass, Fletch,” he said, softly. “I handled this all so badly. I know you’re mad at me, and I think you’ve got every right to be. I’d be mad at me too, in your position. And there’s no excuse for it, really. I should have treated you like the adult that you are, but instead I acted like a spoiled little kid, and I am so sorry.”
Fletcher paused, setting the box of dried hazel back on the bed-quilt before dropping his hands to his sides, his shoulders hunching. “You’re telling me this now?” he said softly.
“Yes,” said Russel. “And I should have told you two weeks ago. I’m proud of you, Fletch. You’re brilliant, and now your brilliance is going to get the attention it deserves. You’ve got a damn good woman who loves you, and I’m proud of you for falling in love with her, for supporting her now when she’s got the opportunity of a lifetime. You both made the right choice to move, and I’m excited for you.” He bit his lip. “I’ll miss you, but it would hurt a lot worse to watch you give up your life just because I’m scared of change.”
Fletcher turned, eyes swimming in tears, mouth curved in the most beautiful smile Russel had ever seen in his life. “I’m scared, too,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you, before, but ...”
Russel tugged him close, kissed his hair. “I know, Fletch,” he said, softly. “I understand. Remember when we first moved to Xenotime? How I cried myself to sleep the first night, how you had to sleep in my bed? It’s scary, moving someplace new, doing new things, but you’ll have Winry, and you’ll do great.”
“And you’ll come visit me, right?” said Fletcher, words muffled in his older brother’s shirt. “I’m going to miss you. A lot.”
“Then I’ll definitely come visit you,” said Russel, feeling his own throat tighten as he pressed a kiss into his younger brother’s hair. “I’ll miss you a lot, too, Fletch.”
Fletcher sniffled. “Help me pack?” he said, pulling away only enough to look up at his big brother.
Russel nodded. “That’s why I’m here,” he said.
Slowly, they arranged Fletcher’s work in the bottom of the borrowed trunk, talking about the younger man’s plans for the future, about the research he hoped to continue in Rush Valley, about Russel’s interest in Ishbalan farming practices, about the application of his knowledge of plants and soil in the absence of Alchemy. By the time the trunk was full and Fletcher and Russel were slumped against it, panting from lugging it off the bed, the sun had slipped nearly behind the hills, bathing the room in a warm blush. Russel tugged his little brother close and kissed the top of the boy’s head.
“Thank you, Fletch,” he said.
“For what?” said Fletcher.
“For putting up with me,” said Russel. “For spending this time with me, even though I’ve been so horrible to you, lately. It means a lot to me.”
Fletcher snorted. “Like you’ve never been an idiot before, jeez,” he said, snuggling closer and sighing. “Believe it or not, Brother, I understand.”
Russel smiled. “Thanks,” he said. He shuffled his brother a little. “I owe Winry, too, for letting me help you pack. After last night, I didn’t think she’d ever tolerate me being around you again.”
“The tantrum you threw last night was nothing compared to some of the stuff she’s gotten from Edward, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Before she left this morning, she told me to make up with you or not bother coming to Rush Valley. She knew I couldn’t leave if you were still mad at me or I was still mad at you.”
Russel chuckled. “Aw, that’s sweet of-wait a minute. Winry left this morning?”
Fletcher nodded. “Yeah. She just stopped by last night on her way to Rush Valley. Grandma had business to do in the City, meeting with her new assistant or something, so I told Winry she could stay here for the night. They left around eight, before you woke.”
“Wow,” said Russel. “I wish I’d gotten to apologize. I was really awful to both of you last night.”
“You are coming with me tomorrow, aren’t you?” said Fletcher, twisting to look up at his brother. “Come see the apartment, the city, the clinic?”
Russel blinked at him. “If that’s okay with you, then yes, absolutely.”
“Good,” said Fletcher, snuggling against him. “Then you can apologize to her then. And of course I want you to come with me. You’re my brother.”
Russel cuddled him close. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he whispered.
~*~*~*~
“Hey Danny,” said Edward, holding the door open for the older man. “Come on in. Al’s arguing dinner down from its rebellion, said he could use your help.”
Danny stepped inside and bent to unbuckle his boots. “Thanks,” he said. “Not sure what he thinks my help’s going to do, though. Last time I tried to help him in the kitchen, he couldn’t tell whose side I was on.”
Edward laughed. “I’m out here playing doorman because he was convinced I’d sided with dinner,” he said. He looked down at the man kneeling in the floor, head cocked to the side. “You do really love him, right?”
Danny paused and looked up. “Yes,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m neither deaf nor an idiot,” said Edward, “and I know how much it hurts to end a physical relationship. Being in love and all that ... it’s nice and it lasts longer than lust, but it hurts to not have someone beside you at night, if you’ve gotten used to it. I’m trying real hard not to throw a fit about what I heard last night, but ...”
Danny stood. “I understand. And I’ll tell you this: if I hurt your brother,” he said, “you have my blessings to kick my ass.”
Edward offered him a small smile. “Good,” he said. “That’s all I needed to know.”
~*~*~*~
Bedtime was a tricky time. Full of good food and sleepy from warm baths, the temptation to become grumpy and impatient was strong, especially with the unspoken ache of knowing it was Fletcher’s last night at home. Russel was doing an admirable job of restraining himself from pitching a tantrum, but his lower lip was quivering and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, shoulders hunched enough that his suspenders were bunching the cotton of his shirt.
“No, Brother,” said Fletcher, hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. “You should sleep with Edward. Al should sleep with Danny. Don’t treat this differently from any other night, please?”
“But-”
“No, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Go have your bath, then go to bed. You need your rest, and so do I. Please?”
Russel slumped, defeated, and nodded, wrapping his arms around his younger brother when the boy stepped forward and hugged him. “I love you, Fletch,” he said, quietly.
“Love you too, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Goodnight.”
Then he was gone and his door was closed, and Russel was alone in the hall, turning and making his way to the bedroom he shared with Edward, just as Al and Danny were coming out of the bathing room, dressed in pajamas and holding hands, their hair damp and skin pink from the warm water. He kept his eyes down as he passed them, closed the bedroom door behind himself.
Not fair, he thought. Ed still has Al, and Al’s older than Fletcher.
He shrugged out of his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt, dropping it untidily to the floor before unbuttoning his pants, wiggling a little to get them over his hips without bothering with the zipper. Naked, he kicked his pile of clothing to the side and grabbed his towel and pajama pants, glancing into the hallway before leaving the room, not wanting to embarrass his brother-in-law or Danny by running around in naught but a towel. The hallway was, as he’d expected, empty, save for the muffled sound of giggling coming from Al’s bedroom. Really not fair, he thought, padding down the hall to the bathing room.
The door to the bathing room opened before he had a chance to wrap his hand around it, a metal hand sneaking out to close around the front of his towel and tug, unbalancing him enough that he toppled into the bathing room, his undignified squawk of surprise cut off by Edward’s mouth, pressed hard against his own.
“Edward, what the-”
“You looked lonely,” said Edward. “Thought maybe you’d like me to wash your back.”
Russel blinked at him. “Oh,” he said. “Thanks.”
He let Edward take his towel and drape it over the rack by the sink, let Edward lead him into the tiled portion of the bathing room, over to the two stools sitting by the showerhead. Sighed in the comfort of the warm water as Edward sprayed him off, then took the showerhead and returned the favor, holding Edward’s long hair out of the way as he rinsed the back of the man’s neck. He sat and wet his own hair, then passed the showerhead back to Edward, sitting and squeezing shampoo into his hand as Edward argued water into the thick strands of his hair.
“Can’t believe he’s leaving tomorrow,” he said, when Edward sat and began washing. “Two weeks passed so quickly.”
Edward nodded, lathering his hair. “I know, Russ,” he said. “But he’ll be really close by. We can go visit him, as often as you like. Might be kind of fun, traveling together.”
“Yeah,” said Russel. “But he’ll get sick of it, eventually. He’s sick of me already, doesn’t want me to sleep in his room tonight. How long before he doesn’t want me to come see him, either?”
“I don’t think he’ll get sick of you visiting, Russ,” said Edward, waiting for his husband to finish rinsing before taking the showerhead and drenching himself, growling at the shampoo foam that sneaked into his shoulder-joint. “He’s your brother. He’ll love it if you visit.”
Russel sighed and lathered his washcloth. “Not everyone’s brother loves them as much as your brother loves you, Ed,” he said, quietly. “Mine’s tired of me. Tired of me always screwing up. You know, it was my fault we got into trouble in Xenotime, my fault we nearly got killed in Central. Now, when he thinks back to living in this house, all he’s going to remember is me freaking out on him when he said he was leaving. He called me his jailer, you know. Last night. I heard him.”
Edward set down the comb he’d been using to spread conditioner through his hair and reached out, gently turning Russel and taking the cloth from the younger man’s hand, washing Russel’s back with big, slow circles. “You both said lots of stuff last night, lots of stuff over the past two weeks, that you didn’t mean,” he said. “Fletcher worships the ground you walk on, Russ. You both just need time to remember that.”
They finished bathing in silence, Russel pulling his arm free of Edward’s gentle grip when the older man tried to lead him to the bath. He dried and dressed, then brushed his teeth, listening to Edward drain the water from the tub, watching Edward dry and braid his long hair. They switched off the light and returned to their bedroom in silence, slipping into bed in the darkness.
When Russel turned his back to his husband, Edward remained silent, gently spooning around him, metal arm draped over Russel’s belly, feigning sleep when Russel began to cry.
~*~*~*~
It was Pinako, not Winry, who greeted the brothers at the station in Rush Valley, corncob pipe clamped tightly between her teeth, her mouth set in a thin, severe line. She helped Fletcher find a luggage trolley and supervised Russel and Edward struggling the boy’s luggage onto it, then led them to her car, once again standing by as the boys loaded the trunk and a few odd bags into the back. It wasn’t until they’d reached Fletcher and Winry’s new apartment, a loft above an Automail parts shop, that Pinako softened enough to properly greet her charges. She shook Edward’s metal hand, patting him affectionately on the shoulder, then let Russel and Fletcher kiss her on the cheek, a custom they’d picked up in their years in Xenotime, then tugged Al close for a warm hug, a greeting she reserved only for him.
“I’m so glad to see you, Grandma,” said Al, stepping back and straightening, allowing Pinako to look him over, to poke his belly and grunt in approval that he was eating enough, pinch his cheeks and nod when he giggled. “How have you been?”
Pinako gave him a very stern look. “I’m fine, Alphonse, and you’ve been worrying, I can tell. That’s not good for you, so stop it, do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Al. “Just worried that you’d be lonely, is all.”
“Who said I’d be lonely?” said Pinako, drawing herself up to her full four feet of height and shooting her granddaughter a disapproving glance as the girl skipped out of the building and rushed to Fletcher’s side, wrapping her arms around him. “Got a new assistant, or didn’t Winry tell you?”
Al shook his head. “No, she didn’t-”
His brother’s yelp interrupted the rest of his sentence, and the loud laughter following the blonde’s cry drained all the blood from Al’s face. He turned, wide-eyed, and looked at his struggling sibling, feeling very much trapped.
“ALPHONSE ELRIC!” boomed Alex Armstrong, dropping Edward, who had gone quite limp, into Russel’s waiting arms. “Good to see you, lad.” Then he was hugging Al, and Al wasn’t breathing, and Pinako was standing beside them laughing, while Fletcher leant close to Winry, who was rolling her eyes.
“They’re not ... um ... are they?” he said.
“Don’t ask,” said Winry. “Knowing Grandma, she’d tell, and then Alex would have to tell you which family tradition he used and when and ... ew.”
Fletcher shuddered. “Good point,” he said. Then he shook his head and made his way over to save his best friend. When Alex spotted him and swept him into his crushing embrace, right along with Al, Pinako laughed and patted Alex’s arm, then made her way over to her granddaughter, quietly offering to help the girl unpack while Al and Fletcher struggled for air.
~*~*~*~
“Okay, Fletch, that sounds good. Yeah. Nine’s fine.”
Edward watched his husband pace, fingers worrying the cord of the hotel phone. Fletcher’s promised call was half an hour late, but Russel looked so happy to have received it, so relieved to be talking to his younger brother, that it hardly mattered.
“Want us to meet you at the apartment? Ah, okay then. Where’s that?”
Half a day left in Rush Valley, then home. Without Fletcher. Without Winry. Russel hadn’t mentioned it, but the haunted look in his eyes, every time conversation died down, told Edward all too well that the thought had most certainly occurred to his husband, that the notion was never far from the man’s thoughts.
“Can’t wait. Yeah, see you then. And Fletch? Love you.”
Edward watched his lover bite his lip, watched him say goodnight to his younger brother. When Russel replaced the receiver, he looked older, somehow. Horribly sad and empty.
“Hey,” said Edward, patting the bedspread beside him. “Come here, Russ.”
Russel settled down onto the mattress and sighed, looking at Edward through his uncooperative bangs as he reached out to stroke his fingers down his lover’s long hair. He leant close and kissed Edward’s temple, then picked up the hairbrush from the bedside table and began gently working the snarls out of Edward’s damp hair, reducing the man to a purring deadweight beside him.
“Love brushing your hair, baby,” he murmured.
Edward sighed. “Good,” he said. “You can brush it any time you want to, Russ. Feels good. Better than when Al does it. You’d think a guy with long hair would understand about being gentle, but no, Al just doesn’t seem to get it. Trying to yank me bald, I think.”
Russel snorted softly. “My poor abused lover,” he said, shifting to brush the last section of his husband’s hair. “They’re really happy here, I think, Winry and Fletcher. Really, really happy. I’ve never seen Fletcher smile so much, not even when Mom was alive.” He drew a deep breath, then sighed. “Why can’t I just be happy for him, Ed? I know I should be, but I’m just not.”
“Hmm,” said Edward. He held still while Russel braided his hair, twisting around as soon as the younger man had finished, crawling into Russel’s lap, flattening the man onto the bed. “Fletcher is going to blossom brilliantly here, and we both know it. I think you’re scared because you remember how hard it was to establish yourself in this field, and the thought of your brother having trouble and not coming to you for help worries you.” He stroked Russel’s bangs back with the backs of his metal fingers and smiled.
“I also think that you’ll be coming up here to visit him as often as you can, and that I’ll come with you whenever you ask, just so Winry’s got someone to beat up while you and your brother go out to ogle some new weed or some such.” He pressed his lips to Russel’s and kissed him, then pulled away, just enough that he could speak.
“I think you’re going to hug him goodbye tomorrow and prove that when he brags about what an incredible man you are, he’s not going to be exaggerating in the slightest. I think that things will be different, but that you’ll adapt to them, and you’ll be happy, too. You just need to give it time.”
Russel looked at him, long and hard, bright blue eyes filling with tears before he squeezed them tightly shut, lips parting in a soft sob as Edward bent to kiss his tears from his cheeks.
“Can’t believe I have to go home tomorrow and leave him,” Russel whispered. “There’s no reason for me to bring him home, and every reason for him to stay here. But ... I don’t want him to stay here, Ed. I don’t want to go home without him.”
“Shh, I know,” said Edward, sliding off of his husband’s body, allowing the man to curl up against him, like a child. “I know Russ. I know.”
After a long moment of crying quietly, comforted by his husband’s hand on his back, Edward’s lips pressed to his hair, Russel pulled away and grabbed a tissue, blew his nose. He turned and kissed Edward gently on the lips, rested his head on the man’s shoulder, nuzzling the soft skin of Edward’s neck.
“Distract me,” he said, quietly.
“Best that I can,” said Edward, stroking Russel’s cheek.
Russel sighed. “Make love to me?” he said.
“My pleasure,” said Edward. Then he lay Russel down and set about stripping him, shirt-buttons and belt buckle, the snap and zipper of Russel’s trousers, the whisper of cotton as he tugged plain briefs down Russel’s muscular thighs. When he slid back up and twisted Russel’s beloved suspenders around the man’s wrists, Russel protested, but Edward just laughed and kissed him quiet, bunching the excess length of the suspenders into a ball and pressing them into his husband’s palms.
“I’m not tying them, Russ,” he said. “Just looping them around. You can get out if you need to.”
“Then why-”
“Because you need to let go, Russ,” said Edward, all seriousness as he stripped out of his own shirt and jeans, wiggling as he shucked plain blue boxers down his mismatched legs. “Just let go and let me love you, okay?”
And so Russel did. He spread his legs and sighed, watching Edward lick the length of his cock, up the underside, then around the head, parting his lips to suck the tip into his mouth, cleaning precome from the slit with long washing strokes. He watched Edward bend lower, nuzzling his balls, gently biting the inside of his thigh, licking his way up from the bite-marks to Russel’s navel, nipping at it before continuing higher, biting and sucking at Russel’s nipples while his flesh fingers, slick with lubricant he’d placed under the pillow, earlier, with only the dim hope that his husband would finally turn to him for comfort. He rubbed over Russel’s entrance, teasing only long enough for the younger man to loosen, then slipping inside, rubbing and teasing and wetting and stretching.
When Edward’s lips pressed to his, Russel opened his mouth and let his husband in, kissing back with all the desperation and anger and love and fear he’d held back since they’d boarded the train in Central. Edward moaned in appreciation and thrust his fingers more quickly into Russel’s body, stroking and stretching only a moment more before hooking his fingers and rubbing Russel’s prostate, hard and precise, perfection borne of love and practice.
Russel whimpered softly, tossing his head from side to side on the pillow.
“Love you,” whispered Edward, pulling back and slicking himself.
He slid in easily, thrusting gently for the last inch of his length, making Russel whimper and strain against the bonds of his suspenders, the bulk of which he still held tightly in his hands, keeping the straps snug around his wrists, arms cradled comfortably in the pillow. It was wonderful, the feeling of exposure, the stretch of his body and the breath air from the open window, the whisper of the sheets under him and the rhythm of his husband above him.
“Beautiful,” murmured Edward, hips swinging steadily, body arched backward, the tip of his erection rubbing Russel’s prostate on every stroke. “I love you, Russel. Love you so much.”
Russel moaned and arched his back, spreading his legs further apart, his erection bouncing over his stomach, leaking and neglected. When Edward shifted, releasing Russel’s hip with his flesh hand to wrap his fingers around Russel’s cock, the younger man cried out, thrusting up to meet each of Edward’s thrusts, driving his erection into his husband’s fist.
“Close,” he gasped. “Ed, I’m close ... close ... Come for me, baby, please. Fill me, Ed, please ... please ... aah ...” And it was over, his balls pulled up and his cock twitched, semen pulsing messily all over his chest and belly, dribbling down Edward’s hand.
“Oh Russel,” whispered Edward, gripping his husband’s hip once again with his wet hand, thrusting hard only a few times before snapping in as deeply as he could and coming, hard and wet, crying out as he filled the beautiful man beneath him. He slumped forward, panting, and pulled his cock out of Russel’s body before sliding up to kiss the man, sloppy and slow, sated and warm.
“Thank you,” Russel murmured, eyes slipping closed. “Love you, Edward.”
Edward smiled. “Love you too, Russ,” he said. Then he slid out of bed and pulled his towel off of the chair where he’d slung it after his shower and cleaned them both, wiggling the bedclothes out from under his husband before climbing into bed and cuddling around the younger man. When Russel sleepily draped his arm around Edward’s shoulders, the metal clasp of his suspenders clinking softly against Edward’s metal arm, Edward chuckled and sat up, unlooping the elastic straps from his husband’s wrists, where they were little more than loosely draped.
“We’re going to have to work on our bondage kink, Russ,” he whispered, his breath disturbing the soft strands of Russel’s hair. “That was the most vanilla bondage ever. That Bastard would laugh himself sick, if he knew.”
Russel shook his head. “Liked it,” he murmured, mostly asleep. “Love you.”
Edward kissed just beneath his husband’s collarbone, then curled up and closed his eyes, stroking his husband’s chest, his body draped over Russel’s like a comforting blanket, a shield from the worries of wakefulness. Some bonds were stronger than any strap or chain could be, anyway. And he found he didn’t mind those, not at all.
“I like it too, Russ,” he whispered. “I like it too.”
In the neighboring room, Al blushed and cuddled closer around his pillow, a little lonely, but smiling, relieved to have his family back. “Goodnight, Brother,” he whispered to the darkness. Then, pressing a kiss to his pillow, he whispered:
“Goodnight, Danny.”
Smiling and peaceful, he drifted to sleep.
Additionally, there’s suspenders!bondage at the end.
This chapter is NC-17 because it’s got sex in it. *gasp* Lots of sex in it. Al/Danny and Ed/Russel sex, no less, so YATTA! *snicker*
Dedicated to musemachine for being awesome, and to sailormac for being my co-conspirator in bloody everything.
Oh, and the obligatory list of links to the other chapters is ... here!
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 Seventeen
Bonds
by Mistress Quickly
The house was quiet and dark when Al returned, arm wrapped around Danny’s back, his head resting on the man’s shoulder. The light above the front porch wasn’t even on, something Edward had never forgotten to do, not once since he and Al had first moved in with the Tringham brothers.
“Looks like the war’s over,” Al said softly, pulling away from Danny. “Must’ve been bad, though. The porch light’s not on, and they didn’t lock up.”
Danny hesitated. “You sure it’s a good idea for me to be here, then, sweetheart?”
“Yeah,” said Al. “Brother actually ordered me to call you. He knows how lonely I’ve been lately, without you. Not fair for us to be apart if he’s got Russel again, right?” He pushed open the door and slipped inside, closing and locking it behind his lover. “As long as we don’t wake anyone up, we should be fine.”
“Okay,” whispered Danny. “If you say so.”
They slipped off their shoes and sneaked up the stairs, into the room Al hadn’t slept in for two weeks, Danny waiting until Al had closed the door before tugging the boy into his arms and kissing him, deep and slow, sighing when Al kissed back, rubbing his body against Danny’s.
“Missed you,” he whispered. “Missed you so much, Danny.”
“Missed you too,” said Danny, fumbling blindly with the elastic holding Al’s ponytail in place, tugging it out and dropping it to the floor, kissing his lover again as he threaded his fingers in the boy’s soft hair. “Really, really missed you.”
They fell into bed, wrapped in the nightlight-lit darkness of the room, kissing and stroking each other, Al wiggling under his lover until Danny noticed well enough to help him with the buttons of the shirt he’d tugged on over the t-shirt he usually slept in, arguing briefly with the zip of his jeans. He shivered at the feel of Al’s hands rubbing all over his body, pausing to pinch his nipples through his shirt, squeezing his butt almost hard enough to hurt, just right to tease, moaning softly as he rolled them, pulling Al into his lap.
“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he breathed, sliding one hand up the boy’s body, feeling for a hard nipple, the other moving down Al’s thighs, groping for the boy’s erection. “Anything, Al, anything you want, just tell me.”
Al shuddered and thrust his hips forward, head falling back, mouth open in a gasp. “Oh Danny,” he whispered. “Oh ... oh ... anything ... everything ... Whatever you do to yourself. Do it to me?”
Danny nodded, peppering kisses across his lover’s lips and jaw, down Al’s throat to settle at the slope of the boy’s neck, sucking at the soft skin. “Lube,” he whispered, licking the red skin with the very tip of his tongue, tickling Al enough for the boy to squirm away from the touch. “Do you have anything we can use as lube?”
Al whimpered and leant to the side, reaching into his bedside table and pulling out a small bottle of lotion. “Here,” he said, handing the bottle to Danny, then rolling to the side and wriggling out of his jeans and briefs. He watched Danny do the same, then settled across the man’s lap, legs spread and cheeks flushed, eyes tinged ever-so-slightly with apprehension. “Finally get to lose our virginity, huh?” he said.
Danny chuckled. “Oh sweetheart,” he said. “I’m not going to do that. You said you wanted what I do to myself, and where I’ve thought about being able to fuck myself, I’ve yet figured out how to actually do it. I imagine it would hurt.”
“Probably,” said Al, giggling but looking distinctly relieved. “Then what-”
“You’ll see,” said Danny.
Al wrinkled his nose at his lover, both hands cupping Danny’s face, tilting it up as he leant down for a kiss, slipping his tongue into the man’s mouth just as Danny squeezed lotion onto his index finger and pressed it to the cleft of Al’s perfect butt, sliding gently forward, seeking the boy’s entrance. He rubbed the tip of his finger over it, teasing the firm muscle, growling and kissing Al more deeply when he felt the boy’s anus begin to relax, fluttering under his finger, allowing it to slip in, just a bit.
“Ah! Danny!” whimpered Al, rubbing his erection against his lover’s, the friction just enough to tease, nowhere near enough to satisfy. “That’s ... that’s really good.”
“You are tight,” whispered Danny, steadily pushing his finger into Al’s body, twisting it a little once it was buried in the boy’s slick heat. “Oh Al ... have you ever done this before?”
Al shook his head. “Not inside, no. Just the outside ... ngh, feels good, Danny ...”
Danny hummed and kissed him, working his finger in and out of Al’s body, pulling out and adding more lotion to his hand before dropping the bottle to the soft sheets beside his thigh, massaging the boy’s entrance with his index and middle fingers as he reached up to tease on of Al’s nipples. When Al arched his back, the hand that wasn’t holding onto Danny for balance blindly seeking one of his lover’s nipples, Danny groaned and pushed both fingers in, thrusting shallowly until they were both buried in the heat of Al’s body, the boy’s incredible tightness making his own cock throb and leak.
“Love you,” he whispered, dragging his fingers down Al’s chest, past the faint, soft hair of the boy’s belly, through the tempting caramel curls around the base of Al’s erection. He wrapped his hand around Al’s cock and twisted, slowly, up and down, spreading the tantalizing mixture of his own and Al’s precome around the length before building a rhythm, quickly matching pace with his fingers, closing his eyes as he sought Al’s prostate.
There was no question when he found it. Al arched and began riding his hand, panting and thrusting, throwing his head back as he started to come, sobbing Danny’s name in a choked whisper as he pulsed semen all over the man, thick and warm and more copious than Danny had ever seen him come before. When it was over, when Danny was gently withdrawing his fingers, Al slumped forward, head on Danny’s shoulder, long hair tickling the man’s chest, sticking in the splashes of his own semen. Danny turned to kiss his lover’s temple, wrapping his semen-wet hand around his own erection and tugged, stroking only a few times before he came, wet and messy all over both of them.
“’M sorry,” murmured Al, lifting his head. “I was going to suck on you, just ... ngh. I’m just ...”
Danny chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment, then,” he said, kissing Al softly on the lips. “You are so beautiful when you come, Al. I can’t imagine anything better than getting to watch you come.”
Even in the dark, he could tell Al was blushing. “Is that what you do when you touch yourself?” he said. “With the fingers and twisting your hand and everything?”
“Mmm-hmm,” said Danny, nodding. “Even the nipple thing, ever since you told me about your fetish. I’d never really touched mine before, but ... mmm. I’m glad you suggested it.”
Al giggled. “You’re teasing me, you know that right?” he said. “Giving me mental images of you playing with your nipples.”
“Guilty as charged,” said Danny, rubbing the tip of his nose against Al’s.
“I know now why you want me to take you, the first time,” said Al. “I had no idea it would feel so good, having ... something inside me.” He sighed. “You’ll take me too, eventually, right?”
“Absolutely,” said Danny, all teasing gone from his voice. “I would do anything to make you feel good, Al.”
Al sighed and kissed him, deep and slow. “I love you, Danny,” he said. “You do make me feel good.”
Danny smiled, feeling an odd clenching in his chest. “You make me feel good, too, Al,” he said. “Not just for sex, either.”
“Never just for sex,” said Al, shaking his head. He slid a bit stiffly out of Danny’s lap and picked a t-shirt out of his laundry hamper, tossing it to Danny before picking out another for himself. “It’s my week to do the laundry,” he said, “so these should work. Just enough so we don’t drip on the way to the bathing room.”
Danny laughed softly and swiped semen from his chest, shivering a little at the thought of his semen mixed with Al’s, the thought of having evidence of their passion smeared across his skin. When he was no longer dripping with the stuff, he stood and rolled the t-shirt in on itself, then set it in the hamper, slipping into his jeans while Al re-tied his long hair.
They made their way silently into the bathing room, locking the door behind themselves before stripping and cleaning each other with warm, wet washcloths, kissing and washing until their lips were swollen and their skin was clean. Damp and shivering, they made their way back to Al’s bedroom, stripping out of their jeans in preference for flannel sleeping pants, snuggling under the covers and kissing until they were too sleepy to do it properly anymore.
“Love you, Danny,” murmured Al, tucking his head under his lover’s chin and sighing, happily.
“I love you too, sweetheart,” said Danny. “Goodnight.”
Two rooms away, Edward sighed, staring at the ceiling, his husband’s back pressed against his arm, his body cold under the covers.
“Goodnight, Al,” he whispered to the darkness, sleepless as the quiet of the house settled around him.
~*~*~*~
“Damnit!”
Edward looked up from the annotations he was putting beside an array used for soil permeability and blinked at his younger brother, watching the young man scrub furiously at the ends of his long hair.
“You okay, Al?” he said.
“Yeah,” said Al. “Just smeared the ink of the letter I was writing when my hair brushed it. I should just cut it off, really. Only grew it out because I didn’t have time to get it cut, and then I was just used to it, so ...” He sighed. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to shout.”
Edward laughed softly and slipped his glasses off, setting them and his pencil down as he rose and made his way over to his brother. “Mine drives me nuts, too,” he said. “Here, see if this helps.”
Gently, he gathered Al’s hair back and finger-combed it into three sections, winding it carefully into a neat braid, holding the end of the braid with his metal hand as he tugged the tie out of his own braid and secured Al’s. He stepped back and smiled at his handiwork. “Better?” he said.
Al reached back and touched his braid, then nodded. “Much, thank you,” he said. “I wore it braided, originally, when I first left Sensei’s and started searching for you alone. But so many people thought I was you that I had to start wearing it in a ponytail. I guess I just got used to it, after awhile.”
Edward pulled him close, resting his chin on the top of his brother’s head. “I’m sorry I was gone, Al,” he said. “I can’t imagine what it was like for you, trying to survive in the mess I’d made of things. Wish I’d been here to help you.”
“You saved my life, Brother,” said Al, patting his brother’s forearm. “Rose told me about it. Told me how beautiful you looked, how at-peace, when you stepped into the array and disappeared. You gave up everything for me for four years, then went and did it again when you stepped into that array, then did it again by living over There alone. Don’t ever apologize, Brother. You have nothing to apologize for.” He gave his brother’s metal hand a squeeze. “I’m glad I have you, Brother,” he said. “I really am.”
“I’m glad I have you, too, Al,” said Edward. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Brother,” said Al. “I love you too.”
~*~*~*~
Russel leant against the doorframe of his brother’s room, watching the boy pack. Socks, underwear, shirts, pants, and books were stacked neatly in the trunk Winry had brought with her for him to use. Beside it lay an organized mess of small boxes and baggies of herbs, a few notebooks scattered amongst them, one open with hasty sketches drawn in it, starred notes in Fletcher’s smooth handwriting, marked for the boy’s attention, later.
It amazed Russel just how little his younger brother owned.
“You know you can always come back, anytime you want, right?” said Russel. “You don’t have to call or anything. Door’s always open.”
Fletcher’s hands paused over a baggie of dried lavender. “Thank you,” he said, coolly.
“Even if you don’t need to come back, you know?” said Russel, quickly. “Just to visit. Because, well ... I’m going to miss you, you know.”
Fletcher resumed packing, silent and calm. Russel swallowed hard and padded quietly into the room, stopping just a breath away from his little brother.
“I’m so sorry I’ve been such an ass, Fletch,” he said, softly. “I handled this all so badly. I know you’re mad at me, and I think you’ve got every right to be. I’d be mad at me too, in your position. And there’s no excuse for it, really. I should have treated you like the adult that you are, but instead I acted like a spoiled little kid, and I am so sorry.”
Fletcher paused, setting the box of dried hazel back on the bed-quilt before dropping his hands to his sides, his shoulders hunching. “You’re telling me this now?” he said softly.
“Yes,” said Russel. “And I should have told you two weeks ago. I’m proud of you, Fletch. You’re brilliant, and now your brilliance is going to get the attention it deserves. You’ve got a damn good woman who loves you, and I’m proud of you for falling in love with her, for supporting her now when she’s got the opportunity of a lifetime. You both made the right choice to move, and I’m excited for you.” He bit his lip. “I’ll miss you, but it would hurt a lot worse to watch you give up your life just because I’m scared of change.”
Fletcher turned, eyes swimming in tears, mouth curved in the most beautiful smile Russel had ever seen in his life. “I’m scared, too,” he said. “I didn’t want to tell you, before, but ...”
Russel tugged him close, kissed his hair. “I know, Fletch,” he said, softly. “I understand. Remember when we first moved to Xenotime? How I cried myself to sleep the first night, how you had to sleep in my bed? It’s scary, moving someplace new, doing new things, but you’ll have Winry, and you’ll do great.”
“And you’ll come visit me, right?” said Fletcher, words muffled in his older brother’s shirt. “I’m going to miss you. A lot.”
“Then I’ll definitely come visit you,” said Russel, feeling his own throat tighten as he pressed a kiss into his younger brother’s hair. “I’ll miss you a lot, too, Fletch.”
Fletcher sniffled. “Help me pack?” he said, pulling away only enough to look up at his big brother.
Russel nodded. “That’s why I’m here,” he said.
Slowly, they arranged Fletcher’s work in the bottom of the borrowed trunk, talking about the younger man’s plans for the future, about the research he hoped to continue in Rush Valley, about Russel’s interest in Ishbalan farming practices, about the application of his knowledge of plants and soil in the absence of Alchemy. By the time the trunk was full and Fletcher and Russel were slumped against it, panting from lugging it off the bed, the sun had slipped nearly behind the hills, bathing the room in a warm blush. Russel tugged his little brother close and kissed the top of the boy’s head.
“Thank you, Fletch,” he said.
“For what?” said Fletcher.
“For putting up with me,” said Russel. “For spending this time with me, even though I’ve been so horrible to you, lately. It means a lot to me.”
Fletcher snorted. “Like you’ve never been an idiot before, jeez,” he said, snuggling closer and sighing. “Believe it or not, Brother, I understand.”
Russel smiled. “Thanks,” he said. He shuffled his brother a little. “I owe Winry, too, for letting me help you pack. After last night, I didn’t think she’d ever tolerate me being around you again.”
“The tantrum you threw last night was nothing compared to some of the stuff she’s gotten from Edward, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Before she left this morning, she told me to make up with you or not bother coming to Rush Valley. She knew I couldn’t leave if you were still mad at me or I was still mad at you.”
Russel chuckled. “Aw, that’s sweet of-wait a minute. Winry left this morning?”
Fletcher nodded. “Yeah. She just stopped by last night on her way to Rush Valley. Grandma had business to do in the City, meeting with her new assistant or something, so I told Winry she could stay here for the night. They left around eight, before you woke.”
“Wow,” said Russel. “I wish I’d gotten to apologize. I was really awful to both of you last night.”
“You are coming with me tomorrow, aren’t you?” said Fletcher, twisting to look up at his brother. “Come see the apartment, the city, the clinic?”
Russel blinked at him. “If that’s okay with you, then yes, absolutely.”
“Good,” said Fletcher, snuggling against him. “Then you can apologize to her then. And of course I want you to come with me. You’re my brother.”
Russel cuddled him close. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he whispered.
~*~*~*~
“Hey Danny,” said Edward, holding the door open for the older man. “Come on in. Al’s arguing dinner down from its rebellion, said he could use your help.”
Danny stepped inside and bent to unbuckle his boots. “Thanks,” he said. “Not sure what he thinks my help’s going to do, though. Last time I tried to help him in the kitchen, he couldn’t tell whose side I was on.”
Edward laughed. “I’m out here playing doorman because he was convinced I’d sided with dinner,” he said. He looked down at the man kneeling in the floor, head cocked to the side. “You do really love him, right?”
Danny paused and looked up. “Yes,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I’m neither deaf nor an idiot,” said Edward, “and I know how much it hurts to end a physical relationship. Being in love and all that ... it’s nice and it lasts longer than lust, but it hurts to not have someone beside you at night, if you’ve gotten used to it. I’m trying real hard not to throw a fit about what I heard last night, but ...”
Danny stood. “I understand. And I’ll tell you this: if I hurt your brother,” he said, “you have my blessings to kick my ass.”
Edward offered him a small smile. “Good,” he said. “That’s all I needed to know.”
~*~*~*~
Bedtime was a tricky time. Full of good food and sleepy from warm baths, the temptation to become grumpy and impatient was strong, especially with the unspoken ache of knowing it was Fletcher’s last night at home. Russel was doing an admirable job of restraining himself from pitching a tantrum, but his lower lip was quivering and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides, shoulders hunched enough that his suspenders were bunching the cotton of his shirt.
“No, Brother,” said Fletcher, hand on the doorknob of his bedroom. “You should sleep with Edward. Al should sleep with Danny. Don’t treat this differently from any other night, please?”
“But-”
“No, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Go have your bath, then go to bed. You need your rest, and so do I. Please?”
Russel slumped, defeated, and nodded, wrapping his arms around his younger brother when the boy stepped forward and hugged him. “I love you, Fletch,” he said, quietly.
“Love you too, Brother,” said Fletcher. “Goodnight.”
Then he was gone and his door was closed, and Russel was alone in the hall, turning and making his way to the bedroom he shared with Edward, just as Al and Danny were coming out of the bathing room, dressed in pajamas and holding hands, their hair damp and skin pink from the warm water. He kept his eyes down as he passed them, closed the bedroom door behind himself.
Not fair, he thought. Ed still has Al, and Al’s older than Fletcher.
He shrugged out of his suspenders and unbuttoned his shirt, dropping it untidily to the floor before unbuttoning his pants, wiggling a little to get them over his hips without bothering with the zipper. Naked, he kicked his pile of clothing to the side and grabbed his towel and pajama pants, glancing into the hallway before leaving the room, not wanting to embarrass his brother-in-law or Danny by running around in naught but a towel. The hallway was, as he’d expected, empty, save for the muffled sound of giggling coming from Al’s bedroom. Really not fair, he thought, padding down the hall to the bathing room.
The door to the bathing room opened before he had a chance to wrap his hand around it, a metal hand sneaking out to close around the front of his towel and tug, unbalancing him enough that he toppled into the bathing room, his undignified squawk of surprise cut off by Edward’s mouth, pressed hard against his own.
“Edward, what the-”
“You looked lonely,” said Edward. “Thought maybe you’d like me to wash your back.”
Russel blinked at him. “Oh,” he said. “Thanks.”
He let Edward take his towel and drape it over the rack by the sink, let Edward lead him into the tiled portion of the bathing room, over to the two stools sitting by the showerhead. Sighed in the comfort of the warm water as Edward sprayed him off, then took the showerhead and returned the favor, holding Edward’s long hair out of the way as he rinsed the back of the man’s neck. He sat and wet his own hair, then passed the showerhead back to Edward, sitting and squeezing shampoo into his hand as Edward argued water into the thick strands of his hair.
“Can’t believe he’s leaving tomorrow,” he said, when Edward sat and began washing. “Two weeks passed so quickly.”
Edward nodded, lathering his hair. “I know, Russ,” he said. “But he’ll be really close by. We can go visit him, as often as you like. Might be kind of fun, traveling together.”
“Yeah,” said Russel. “But he’ll get sick of it, eventually. He’s sick of me already, doesn’t want me to sleep in his room tonight. How long before he doesn’t want me to come see him, either?”
“I don’t think he’ll get sick of you visiting, Russ,” said Edward, waiting for his husband to finish rinsing before taking the showerhead and drenching himself, growling at the shampoo foam that sneaked into his shoulder-joint. “He’s your brother. He’ll love it if you visit.”
Russel sighed and lathered his washcloth. “Not everyone’s brother loves them as much as your brother loves you, Ed,” he said, quietly. “Mine’s tired of me. Tired of me always screwing up. You know, it was my fault we got into trouble in Xenotime, my fault we nearly got killed in Central. Now, when he thinks back to living in this house, all he’s going to remember is me freaking out on him when he said he was leaving. He called me his jailer, you know. Last night. I heard him.”
Edward set down the comb he’d been using to spread conditioner through his hair and reached out, gently turning Russel and taking the cloth from the younger man’s hand, washing Russel’s back with big, slow circles. “You both said lots of stuff last night, lots of stuff over the past two weeks, that you didn’t mean,” he said. “Fletcher worships the ground you walk on, Russ. You both just need time to remember that.”
They finished bathing in silence, Russel pulling his arm free of Edward’s gentle grip when the older man tried to lead him to the bath. He dried and dressed, then brushed his teeth, listening to Edward drain the water from the tub, watching Edward dry and braid his long hair. They switched off the light and returned to their bedroom in silence, slipping into bed in the darkness.
When Russel turned his back to his husband, Edward remained silent, gently spooning around him, metal arm draped over Russel’s belly, feigning sleep when Russel began to cry.
~*~*~*~
It was Pinako, not Winry, who greeted the brothers at the station in Rush Valley, corncob pipe clamped tightly between her teeth, her mouth set in a thin, severe line. She helped Fletcher find a luggage trolley and supervised Russel and Edward struggling the boy’s luggage onto it, then led them to her car, once again standing by as the boys loaded the trunk and a few odd bags into the back. It wasn’t until they’d reached Fletcher and Winry’s new apartment, a loft above an Automail parts shop, that Pinako softened enough to properly greet her charges. She shook Edward’s metal hand, patting him affectionately on the shoulder, then let Russel and Fletcher kiss her on the cheek, a custom they’d picked up in their years in Xenotime, then tugged Al close for a warm hug, a greeting she reserved only for him.
“I’m so glad to see you, Grandma,” said Al, stepping back and straightening, allowing Pinako to look him over, to poke his belly and grunt in approval that he was eating enough, pinch his cheeks and nod when he giggled. “How have you been?”
Pinako gave him a very stern look. “I’m fine, Alphonse, and you’ve been worrying, I can tell. That’s not good for you, so stop it, do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Al. “Just worried that you’d be lonely, is all.”
“Who said I’d be lonely?” said Pinako, drawing herself up to her full four feet of height and shooting her granddaughter a disapproving glance as the girl skipped out of the building and rushed to Fletcher’s side, wrapping her arms around him. “Got a new assistant, or didn’t Winry tell you?”
Al shook his head. “No, she didn’t-”
His brother’s yelp interrupted the rest of his sentence, and the loud laughter following the blonde’s cry drained all the blood from Al’s face. He turned, wide-eyed, and looked at his struggling sibling, feeling very much trapped.
“ALPHONSE ELRIC!” boomed Alex Armstrong, dropping Edward, who had gone quite limp, into Russel’s waiting arms. “Good to see you, lad.” Then he was hugging Al, and Al wasn’t breathing, and Pinako was standing beside them laughing, while Fletcher leant close to Winry, who was rolling her eyes.
“They’re not ... um ... are they?” he said.
“Don’t ask,” said Winry. “Knowing Grandma, she’d tell, and then Alex would have to tell you which family tradition he used and when and ... ew.”
Fletcher shuddered. “Good point,” he said. Then he shook his head and made his way over to save his best friend. When Alex spotted him and swept him into his crushing embrace, right along with Al, Pinako laughed and patted Alex’s arm, then made her way over to her granddaughter, quietly offering to help the girl unpack while Al and Fletcher struggled for air.
~*~*~*~
“Okay, Fletch, that sounds good. Yeah. Nine’s fine.”
Edward watched his husband pace, fingers worrying the cord of the hotel phone. Fletcher’s promised call was half an hour late, but Russel looked so happy to have received it, so relieved to be talking to his younger brother, that it hardly mattered.
“Want us to meet you at the apartment? Ah, okay then. Where’s that?”
Half a day left in Rush Valley, then home. Without Fletcher. Without Winry. Russel hadn’t mentioned it, but the haunted look in his eyes, every time conversation died down, told Edward all too well that the thought had most certainly occurred to his husband, that the notion was never far from the man’s thoughts.
“Can’t wait. Yeah, see you then. And Fletch? Love you.”
Edward watched his lover bite his lip, watched him say goodnight to his younger brother. When Russel replaced the receiver, he looked older, somehow. Horribly sad and empty.
“Hey,” said Edward, patting the bedspread beside him. “Come here, Russ.”
Russel settled down onto the mattress and sighed, looking at Edward through his uncooperative bangs as he reached out to stroke his fingers down his lover’s long hair. He leant close and kissed Edward’s temple, then picked up the hairbrush from the bedside table and began gently working the snarls out of Edward’s damp hair, reducing the man to a purring deadweight beside him.
“Love brushing your hair, baby,” he murmured.
Edward sighed. “Good,” he said. “You can brush it any time you want to, Russ. Feels good. Better than when Al does it. You’d think a guy with long hair would understand about being gentle, but no, Al just doesn’t seem to get it. Trying to yank me bald, I think.”
Russel snorted softly. “My poor abused lover,” he said, shifting to brush the last section of his husband’s hair. “They’re really happy here, I think, Winry and Fletcher. Really, really happy. I’ve never seen Fletcher smile so much, not even when Mom was alive.” He drew a deep breath, then sighed. “Why can’t I just be happy for him, Ed? I know I should be, but I’m just not.”
“Hmm,” said Edward. He held still while Russel braided his hair, twisting around as soon as the younger man had finished, crawling into Russel’s lap, flattening the man onto the bed. “Fletcher is going to blossom brilliantly here, and we both know it. I think you’re scared because you remember how hard it was to establish yourself in this field, and the thought of your brother having trouble and not coming to you for help worries you.” He stroked Russel’s bangs back with the backs of his metal fingers and smiled.
“I also think that you’ll be coming up here to visit him as often as you can, and that I’ll come with you whenever you ask, just so Winry’s got someone to beat up while you and your brother go out to ogle some new weed or some such.” He pressed his lips to Russel’s and kissed him, then pulled away, just enough that he could speak.
“I think you’re going to hug him goodbye tomorrow and prove that when he brags about what an incredible man you are, he’s not going to be exaggerating in the slightest. I think that things will be different, but that you’ll adapt to them, and you’ll be happy, too. You just need to give it time.”
Russel looked at him, long and hard, bright blue eyes filling with tears before he squeezed them tightly shut, lips parting in a soft sob as Edward bent to kiss his tears from his cheeks.
“Can’t believe I have to go home tomorrow and leave him,” Russel whispered. “There’s no reason for me to bring him home, and every reason for him to stay here. But ... I don’t want him to stay here, Ed. I don’t want to go home without him.”
“Shh, I know,” said Edward, sliding off of his husband’s body, allowing the man to curl up against him, like a child. “I know Russ. I know.”
After a long moment of crying quietly, comforted by his husband’s hand on his back, Edward’s lips pressed to his hair, Russel pulled away and grabbed a tissue, blew his nose. He turned and kissed Edward gently on the lips, rested his head on the man’s shoulder, nuzzling the soft skin of Edward’s neck.
“Distract me,” he said, quietly.
“Best that I can,” said Edward, stroking Russel’s cheek.
Russel sighed. “Make love to me?” he said.
“My pleasure,” said Edward. Then he lay Russel down and set about stripping him, shirt-buttons and belt buckle, the snap and zipper of Russel’s trousers, the whisper of cotton as he tugged plain briefs down Russel’s muscular thighs. When he slid back up and twisted Russel’s beloved suspenders around the man’s wrists, Russel protested, but Edward just laughed and kissed him quiet, bunching the excess length of the suspenders into a ball and pressing them into his husband’s palms.
“I’m not tying them, Russ,” he said. “Just looping them around. You can get out if you need to.”
“Then why-”
“Because you need to let go, Russ,” said Edward, all seriousness as he stripped out of his own shirt and jeans, wiggling as he shucked plain blue boxers down his mismatched legs. “Just let go and let me love you, okay?”
And so Russel did. He spread his legs and sighed, watching Edward lick the length of his cock, up the underside, then around the head, parting his lips to suck the tip into his mouth, cleaning precome from the slit with long washing strokes. He watched Edward bend lower, nuzzling his balls, gently biting the inside of his thigh, licking his way up from the bite-marks to Russel’s navel, nipping at it before continuing higher, biting and sucking at Russel’s nipples while his flesh fingers, slick with lubricant he’d placed under the pillow, earlier, with only the dim hope that his husband would finally turn to him for comfort. He rubbed over Russel’s entrance, teasing only long enough for the younger man to loosen, then slipping inside, rubbing and teasing and wetting and stretching.
When Edward’s lips pressed to his, Russel opened his mouth and let his husband in, kissing back with all the desperation and anger and love and fear he’d held back since they’d boarded the train in Central. Edward moaned in appreciation and thrust his fingers more quickly into Russel’s body, stroking and stretching only a moment more before hooking his fingers and rubbing Russel’s prostate, hard and precise, perfection borne of love and practice.
Russel whimpered softly, tossing his head from side to side on the pillow.
“Love you,” whispered Edward, pulling back and slicking himself.
He slid in easily, thrusting gently for the last inch of his length, making Russel whimper and strain against the bonds of his suspenders, the bulk of which he still held tightly in his hands, keeping the straps snug around his wrists, arms cradled comfortably in the pillow. It was wonderful, the feeling of exposure, the stretch of his body and the breath air from the open window, the whisper of the sheets under him and the rhythm of his husband above him.
“Beautiful,” murmured Edward, hips swinging steadily, body arched backward, the tip of his erection rubbing Russel’s prostate on every stroke. “I love you, Russel. Love you so much.”
Russel moaned and arched his back, spreading his legs further apart, his erection bouncing over his stomach, leaking and neglected. When Edward shifted, releasing Russel’s hip with his flesh hand to wrap his fingers around Russel’s cock, the younger man cried out, thrusting up to meet each of Edward’s thrusts, driving his erection into his husband’s fist.
“Close,” he gasped. “Ed, I’m close ... close ... Come for me, baby, please. Fill me, Ed, please ... please ... aah ...” And it was over, his balls pulled up and his cock twitched, semen pulsing messily all over his chest and belly, dribbling down Edward’s hand.
“Oh Russel,” whispered Edward, gripping his husband’s hip once again with his wet hand, thrusting hard only a few times before snapping in as deeply as he could and coming, hard and wet, crying out as he filled the beautiful man beneath him. He slumped forward, panting, and pulled his cock out of Russel’s body before sliding up to kiss the man, sloppy and slow, sated and warm.
“Thank you,” Russel murmured, eyes slipping closed. “Love you, Edward.”
Edward smiled. “Love you too, Russ,” he said. Then he slid out of bed and pulled his towel off of the chair where he’d slung it after his shower and cleaned them both, wiggling the bedclothes out from under his husband before climbing into bed and cuddling around the younger man. When Russel sleepily draped his arm around Edward’s shoulders, the metal clasp of his suspenders clinking softly against Edward’s metal arm, Edward chuckled and sat up, unlooping the elastic straps from his husband’s wrists, where they were little more than loosely draped.
“We’re going to have to work on our bondage kink, Russ,” he whispered, his breath disturbing the soft strands of Russel’s hair. “That was the most vanilla bondage ever. That Bastard would laugh himself sick, if he knew.”
Russel shook his head. “Liked it,” he murmured, mostly asleep. “Love you.”
Edward kissed just beneath his husband’s collarbone, then curled up and closed his eyes, stroking his husband’s chest, his body draped over Russel’s like a comforting blanket, a shield from the worries of wakefulness. Some bonds were stronger than any strap or chain could be, anyway. And he found he didn’t mind those, not at all.
“I like it too, Russ,” he whispered. “I like it too.”
In the neighboring room, Al blushed and cuddled closer around his pillow, a little lonely, but smiling, relieved to have his family back. “Goodnight, Brother,” he whispered to the darkness. Then, pressing a kiss to his pillow, he whispered:
“Goodnight, Danny.”
Smiling and peaceful, he drifted to sleep.