mikkeneko

I wanted to finish the fic thingie tonight, but I had too much studying to do, and then simply could not concentrate. Will hopefully be able to finish it tomorrow, or else there won't be a chance before I go home for break. -_-;

And what happened to the plan of another part of Temperance by break? @_@

Edward knows his brother's scent.

It's one of the first things he learned, since the night in the Gate. If he can't identify people by face or voice any more, at least he can tell them by scent. Winry smells of fresh machine oil, and behind it, a little like flowers; Pinako smells of slightly stale machine oil and tobacco.

It's different with Alphonse, though. Al doesn't smell like anything, except maybe a little bit like warm linen; but mostly it is just a scent that is uniquely his brother, and one that has come to suffuse his waking world.

Alphonse doesn't know, Edward reflects, just how pathetically dependant he is. He told him once, whispered against his skin; how strong you are, Niisan, I can't believe it. I could never do all that you do. He's mistaken, although Ed didn't correct him. But Al doesn't know how desperate Ed is for his touch, his constant, grounding presence, because that is all that seperates this pleasant world of warmth and sweet smells from the nightmare inside the Gate. Without sight, without hearing, he doesn't know where he is, doesn't know whose hands are on him unless he can smell his brother's scent nearby, feel the reassuring warmth of his body.

Or maybe Al does know, without saying, because somehow he's never far, and Ed has never had to ask before he's touching, holding, climbing into bed with him. Since he became human, Alphonse is quite cuddly, but what he does for Edward goes beyond all expectation.

A passing breeze tugs at a lock of his hair, falling into his face, and he brushes it back with irritation. Alphonse's hand comes to rest on his shoulder, the touch a sentence in itself; a light inquiry. Some things still don't need words to ask and answer, and Al helps him up, and guides him back to the house again. Ed knows the way pretty well, by this time, and rests his hand on Al's arm only for a guide.

Back in their bedroom, Edward carefully makes his way to the edge of the bed and sits down, reaching back to catch his braid and tug the hair-tie free. He rakes metal fingers through his hair, wincing as the strands catch and pull in the joints, and Al comes back and slaps his hand scoldingly away. Ed drops his hand and turns on the bed until his back is to his brother, tilting his head back expectantly.

For a moment, there's light fingers running over his face; his forehead, his nose, his chin, brushing back to his temples. It's almost as though Al is the blind one, seeking to memorize his brother's features by touch, and Ed shivers. Then the touch firms, the hands leaving to return with a brush, and Ed relaxes completely as Al brushes his hair for him.

So long as Al stays nearby, Ed is... content. He can't say he's happy, exactly, but there's a certain peace in the way things are. Alphonse is human again; he fixed that mistake, made things right again, and he can hold onto that when the darkness gets too thick. Alphonse is searching for some way to restore him, and even though Ed is useless in this search, Alphonse believes so fervently that Ed can't help but believe it a little too.

Maybe his clever, patient little brother will be able to do what he could not, and find a way to perform human transmutation without the terrible cost that comes with it. He hopes so, because there is no way he will allow Alphonse to sacrifice himself for Ed's sake. No way in hell.

Just thinking of it makes him nervous, and on a sudden impulse he reaches back and captures one of Alphonse's hands, stilling the motion of the brush. He pulls Al's arm forward, holding it between his cheek and his shoulder, and Al follows, his chest coming to rest against Edward's back.

Edward brings Al's hand to his face, and touches each finger lightly to his lips. Lacking hands of his own, this is the most sensitive part of him to heat and texture and weight, and must serve him in place of fingertips. Al sighs, and shivers against his back, and that brings a smile to Ed's face.

He continues his exploration, carefully, methodically discovering every inch of Alphonse's skin with his lips, and sometimes his teeth and his tongue, to capture every nuance, every scent and taste and texture that is Alphonse. In all the time he has been this way, forced to relearn the world around him in terms of scent and touch instead of sight and sound, he has found no more worthy object of study than Alphonse.

Al is not content to sit back and be a passive part of this, though; he has exploration of his own that he wants to do. Cool fingers slip under the collar of Edward's shirt, bunching it forward, and obediently Edward ducks his head and lifts his arms so that Alphonse can move it out of the way. There's a motion, a vibration that shifts the bed under Ed's thighs, and then Al's arms are around him, pulling him snugly back against Al's chest, and his hands are stroking down the planes of Ed's chest and stomach and sides.

Ed sighs, and he can feel the echo and the motion even if he can't hear the sound, and the same with the low moan that vibrates from Alphonse's lips when Ed arches back against him. He reaches back with his metal hand, hesitant and fearful of touching too hair, or catching metal fingers in hair and causing pain, but he needs even the limited contact that his automail will grant him. No matter what happens he cannot lose himself to this, he must never forget where he is and who is touching him -- and who is not.

Al's hands on him now bring more than warmth; they're pure heat, a gentle fire that lights Ed up from the inside and reminds him once more that he's still human, no matter what he may have lost. He twists free for a moment -- just enough that he can turn on the bed until he is kneeling and facing Alphonse, and tugs on his arms until he is close enough to kiss.

He puts all he can into the kiss, searching Al's lips and his teeth and his mouth as if he can swallow the words he cannot hear right off of Alphonse's tongue. Al shivers, clinging hard to Ed's shoulders, making tiny whimpers that Ed can feel right down to his bones.

Later, he'll lose himself to the feeling, but Ed always pays careful attention to Alphonse's reactions during this stage, always slightly tense, always on the lookout for even the slightest hint in Al's body language or his reactions that he doesn't want this. Because if Al doesn't want this, if this is just something he forces himself to do for Ed's sake, then Ed will have to stop, and he doesn't want to stop. He needs this, needs it so badly it scares him. This is all he has left to him, sometimes, the only thing left in his life that he can enter into completely and feel like a whole person.

Yeah, it's present tense now. -_-; The whole thing is, but I didn't feel like reposting it just for that small change. Will finish the smut tomorrow, I hope...