Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ With The Scent Of Storms ❯ With The Scent Of Storms ( Chapter 1 )

 

 

 

 

 

 

With The Scent Of Storms

by Shy Himura

 

 

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Series: Full Metal Alchemist

 

Rating: NC-17

 

Pairing: elricest (Ed/Al)

 

Warnings: Incest, lemon, yaoi, angst

 

Type: One Shot

 

Disclaimer: I own: 1 Rusty Car, 1 Sexy Boyfriend, 3 Annoying Muses, and a goddamn partridge in a pair tree. Obviously, I don't own Full Metal Alchemist. Though I won't say no to anyone willing to buy it for me…

 

Dedications: To Lap-chan and Snapey-poo, they of the many perverted persuasions. To Tom, he of the much loved clinical insanity that we so commonly share. And for Dave, who understands, respects, and loves even the mentioning of spoons.

 

 

 

 

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You can touch so many things; the crispiness of a forgotten autumn leaf, curled in your hand, dissolving into find powdery flakes as soon as you thoughtlessly squeeze your fist closed.

 

There is a tangibility to sight; you can caress things with your gaze, learn the truth lying beneath such ordinary things as furniture, clothing; your eyes cannot deceive you, even if the mind behind them can.

 

After all those many years, trapped behind a wall of shifting, frozen metal, to experience such things as these, things most take certainly for granted, Al could not help but appreciate every single thing he saw, touched, tasted. There was fervour behind him now, a passion he had never obtained while first born, still ignorant of the world and its many wonders. He had, he supposed, not grown up but grown down.

 

Oh, the glory of cotton as it brushed against your skin!

 

The first sour apples from the orchard…how the flavour exploded in your mouth, taking thought with it and leaving only guilty, physical pleasure.

 

Wriggling your toes in gritty, damp sand, listening to the endless heartbeat of the waves as they sacrifice themselves upon a trembling shore…

 

He travelled with his brother still; while Ed regretted deeply his involvement with the military, he conceded…in a somewhat grouchy tone that made Al shiver, just for the underlying roughness of it all as it stroked his ears…that without the army's financial and physical aid, their restoration would never have been accomplishable. So now Al saw the sights with new promise; instead of the hollowness of the void, with those searchlight-like eyes that always made his soul ache to use, he was able to actually see wonders that had flashed before them so fast, in fire and in splendour. Ed, despite his cynicism reducing him to seeing the world only in shades of grey, couldn't help but smile at his younger brother's honest enthusiasm.

 

They had travelled through deserts, where the wind scorched your skin dry, leaving you panting and grinning at the sheer inhospitality of it all; to the forests near the mountains, where lingering mists of the false philosopher stones glinted crimson in the dappled light; to the cities, where smoke and the sheer prescience of humanity stirred the heart and the mind. They had seen so many people, relived so much of the past few years…it was like they were young again, Ed fifteen and so little, Al fourteen and so demoralised by his own existence. From Risembool to Artemis, from their little house to the entrance of the Gate. They had come full circle.

 

Older now…not wiser, Ed had laughed when he turned eighteen, but at least getting wrinklier…and with more experience under their belts, life was a journey they wrung the most of, mere motes of travelling dust on the breezes that made the world turn.

 

It was early evening. The storm they had been trying to outrun for three hours had finally broken above them, leaving them no choice but to backtrack to the dingy, decrepit inn that festered in the town they had just left behind them. The rain thudded heavily against the patched shingled roof, making Al twitch in delight at the sound.

 

Despite the unswept floors, the complete disregard for modern conveniences, and the old innkeeper that had given them the hairy eyeball as they stood shivering on the front doorstep, it was warm, and it had beds. Ed had even managed to find a halfway salvageable desk in the creaking attic, and had transfigured it with a grin while Al played decoy, to keep the alchemist hating townsfolk off their aching backs.

 

“Nearly finished with that report, Brother?”

 

He got an uncommitted grunt in reply, and Al felt a lazy smile cross his face as he turned to stare at his brother, leaning up on one elbow as he reclined on his bed.

 

Ed looked so intent, leaning over the freshly repaired oak table, tongue stuck in the corner of his mouth as he carefully scribbled notes. Fuhrer Mustang, and oh how that got Ed riled, wanted to know more about the countryside closest to the emerald capped seas, and had sent the unwilling Full Metal to do his dirty work. Therefore, Ed had been dragging it out as much as he could, receiving his full military salary while he - with no shame - scrawled pleasant little ditties about the loca fauna. Al found it hilarious, but he had put on a `shame on you' face, for the simple fact that he felt he was the more responsible of the two.

 

His brother's hair glowed in the light from the small, half used candle they had grudgingly received with their room; silver streaks marred the luxurious golden strands, testament to the suffering Ed had gone through before his sixteenth birthday. He was taller, his slim build betraying full muscles and a compact frame; whenever he was glomped by his irascible elder brother, Al couldn't help but feel shocked at the sheer solidity of him. He still preferred his odd, hooded cloaks instead of the standard military issue; the only thing that changed was the span of his black tops sleeves, as the seasons dominated its rule over both their wardrobes, and the length of his hair, which now brushed the well of his lower back.

 

Al wasn't paying attention to Ed anymore; that happened quite frequently. The demands that his senses presented to him every moment stole his concentration, leaving him gazing at something or sniffing peculiar scents on the wind.

 

This time it was the wild, charged scent of the storm, with the writhing intimacy of sliding against the sheets beneath his light weight.

 

Wide, bronze eyes watched the lightning flicker outside the window with joy; his long auburn hair picked up the glint of the feral discharges, sparkling in white lines along the silky mop. Pale hands ran in lines along the scratchy wool, rubbing its imprint into his skin and into his memory. It felt delicious itchy, like a mosquito bite that just loves to be scratched.

 

He blushed when he heard his brother's low, amused chuckle.

 

Al sometimes caught Ed staring at him, when he was lost in the moments of texture and sensation; his golden hued eyes narrowed, though warm and filled with love. Al shivered as he turned his head, catching the faint gleam in Ed's eyes that the man always denied…however silently one can deny something one can never fully explain.

 

Al knew that Ed wanted him.

 

Ed didn't know that Al wanted him back.

 

It had started innocently enough. In fact, it had begun the moment Al had regained his body, screaming at the unbearable touch of the cold air as it graced his newly formed flesh. Ed's had been the only touch that soothed him, and in the long weeks of recovery for both of them, it had become natural to lie curled like puppies against each other.

 

When they had been released from the hospital -weeks of physiotherapy had left Ed feeling stronger and fitter, a fact that aided them with Al still on the road to recovery - they had instantly decided to stay in the routine, limbs tumbled around each other, hair in each others faces and the others scent in their delicate noses.

 

As the months went by, and Al's sensitivity decreased, he had found that his brother didn't want to let go of him when it was night, and all was dark and peaceful. That suited Al perfectly. After so many years of yearning to touch his hero, his Brother, the chance to spend every night wrapped in his arms was an overwhelming delight.

 

Then the years rolled along their stately course. Winry, not tired of waiting for Ed but simply maturing to a point where her fascination had been outgrown, stopped her softness filled pursuit, and happily settled into her role as their older sister. No woman had been game enough to go near him, Full Metal, the man who had braved hell and been eaten alive by it, who had sacrificed all to save the last of his family, the most important person in the world to him. Nobody could match Al's status in his life; most sensed this, and admired - and feared - him from afar. As the world began to ignore them, at least in that way, their familiarity was narrowed down to their small bed, in their small barracks room, with soft breaths puffing over flushed cheeks. Al couldn't even look for attractiveness without summoning the image of his beloved brother's face.

 

Al had awoken on a number of occasions to find his brother writhing beside him, hands moving slickly along his erect cock; he never admitted he knew what his brother did in the death of midnight, murmuring his name as he shuddered against the cotton blankets.

 

Thunder tolled, dismal bells ringing in an arcing, broiling sky.

 

He was ignoring Ed again, which was fine, because his brother had gone back to writing, the scrawl of his pen infuriatingly slow against the soft parchment. Al's mind filled with images of the slow, half fulfilled dreams that inevitably followed his brothers midnight incursions, and the embarrassed, guilty feeling that settled when he awoke from them, hard and disturbed. They were brothers, that he knew, that he hoped he would always know, but he could never deny that their relationship went far deeper than that of ordinary siblings.

 

Most did not spend every waking moment together, if they could help it, sometimes finishing each others ideas and sentences, sometimes speaking instantaneously and not finding it odd…odd that the words that flowed from their lips were the same. Most didn't sleep back to back, or spooned in the darkness; feeling heartbeats echo, pulses fluttering in slim throats. Al groaned softly as he arched, the idea of vulnerability that Ed presented when sleeping making his strange desire flare, the desire that he wanted to be even closer to his brother.

 

Even though he knew it was forbidden, wrong, it still seemed like the sweetest sensation of all. The fruit of Eve, tempting in all its lust and magnificence. He bit his lip as his erection firmed further against the lumpy mattress, delightful pressure from his weight adding to the uncurling feelings of pleasure. He reached a hand down and beneath him to adjust it, carefully watching Ed from the corner of his eye as his fingertips encountered pulsing, rock hard flesh.

 

How could he tell Ed that he lusted after him too?

 

That his brother, with his cynical attitude, his slight limp even after all these years, his brash and sassy approach to life, his obvious devotion…it made him think of touching that scar roughened skin and soothingly cool automail, of marking him with hand and mouth and love?

 

Of being intimate with the only thing he loved even more than the mysteries of life itself?

 

Rose red blossomed in Al's pale, fine boned cheeks, even as the hand that had straightened him began to stroke, tentatively, deliberately. His eyes remained focused on his golden brother, who had not noticed yet just what his younger sibling was doing to himself.

 

He was so strong, his Brother…wise beyond his years, aged more than even he could say…so caring, and kind, and wonderful…

 

The candles light began to gutter, making Ed sigh distastefully as he flipped the leather bound journal he carried with him shut. The sound of soft pages clapping together, as if in approvement, rivalled the echoing gasps of thunder…both hid Al's small hiss as he formed a loose tunnel with his palm as he thrust into it slowly, using the darkness to conceal the act from his brother, who stretched and yawned, obviously weary from the days hard travel.

 

Every rippling muscle defined, in that endless, breathtaking moment…the slit of one glimmering ochre eye as the candle finally gave up its torturous existence…the small, satisfied grunt as he scratched an errant rib…

 

Ed jumped when Al groaned, sweet and deep and low, and Ed - being Ed - instantly took it for what it really…well, wasn't.

 

“Al?” Concerned, overflowing, rich honey being poured into his ears. Al cried out as his hand clamped down, trying to summon even more pleasure from that dripping shaft he held, even while he tried to stop. He didn't want his brother to see him do this…

 

“Al, you okay?” Gentle weight next to him made the mattress dip, and Al yelped as he rolled slightly; ending up pressed against his brother's hip, the icy cold of his automail leg making shivers run delightfully up and down his spine.

 

“Don't Ed. Oh please, don't.” So sweet the lust, and yet the agony of shame as he touched himself again, writhing into his touch, mirroring the constant ebb and flow of the lightning and thunder. Even in the middle of his pleasure, Al could feel golden eyes resting on his curling form, confusion radiating from the gaze's caress.

 

“A-Al…you feel sick, or something?”

 

“Oh light, touch me,” Al whispered brokenly, and he shuddered at the tiny, almost unnoticeable gasp that escaped his brothers lips.

 

“…A-Al?”

 

“Touch me, Brother, I can't stand it, make the heat go away.” And weakly, the feeling of sex making him feel lethargic and tired and damn scared, he rolled so that he could see that sweetness, the shining beauty of Ed's face.

 

Ed licked his lips, making them shine like silk as Al's eyes finally accepted the darkness of the room, and his eyes seemed to glow - feral, golden radiating heat, as he shifted his weight uncomfortably, folding his arms in front of his chest. He looked slightly uncomfortable, embarrassed…but, Al saw, with a jolt that pulled a yelp from him as it yanked at is lower belly, there was something like the mixture he was feeling right now.

 

“Al…do you know what you're asking me?” Ed's voice was low, but there was no condemnation in his tone, and he shivered as Al bucked into his own hand again, staring at him with flashing bronze, the entreaty of warmth of love in his eyes. “Do you know…know how wrong this is, how…taboo? It's…it's…”

 

“We're not meant for this world, Brother…” The certainty in Al's voice surprised Ed, as he slipped his free hand into the gap between his brothers arm and chest, biting his lip as the back of it grazed against one sharply erect nipple. “I can't…relate, to other people. I can't, Brother, do you know how hard that is? Knowing I can never love anybody?”

 

“You love me.” A statement that made Al's heart jump, made him blink rapidly as hope threatened to make tears spill from his eyes. Ed looked almost hypnotised as he slowly unfolded his arms, reaching forward with his flesh hand, so he could softly caress Al's cheek. The younger man leaned into it, almost purring, eyes hooding and looking up at him from under lowered lashes. “You've always loved me - wait, wait, we can't do this.” Al's heart almost broke as Ed snatched his hand away, eyes panicked, rising to his feet unsteadily and trying to back away. “Al, its wrong, what would people say!?”

 

The younger Elric bit back his tears, removing his hand from himself as he rose slowly, so that he was leaned over his knees, face buried in the comforting valley they created. “I never knew you cared what people say,” he whispered, while inside he was screaming. Had it been his wishful imagination, thinking that Ed looked at him so lovingly, that he had done those things to himself just from being near him? Had those repetitions of his name in the comforting, smothering darkness been something his mind, torn in some places from the transfer of warm flesh to shattering cold nightmare, back to this body, the one Ed had made with all his heart?

 

Al didn't think he could ever bear it, if it was true.

 

“I never knew you…you cared that people would find us strange…when I was tin…when you were so young, and already a soldier….”

 

Ed gave a muffled sob before he pressed his lips together, spinning quickly, holding arms to himself because he couldn't bear to continue seeing that image; his little brother, growing smaller with each word uttered, so sad and depressed and ashamed…

 

“Never cared when I was ready to let go…never cared. I didn't…I thought you didn't care about the wrong things, the deeply wrong things. I just thought…”

 

“Al…”

 

“I just thought…maybe, you felt it too.” Al's silhouette was misery itself as the lightning flared again, casting his shadow onto the wall in front of Ed, and the continuing army of rain drumming it's way downwards nearly muffled the soft, rhythmic sobs escaping Al's throat. Al sounded like the rain.

 

“Felt…that we're all we have…that we can't love anybody else, we're too damaged, too alone, too scared to open up…too wrong…”

 

“Al!”

 

“It's true, isn't it!? I was…was some kind of thing, stuck in the armour, my home and my prison, my sanctuary and my hell! And now any touch but yours doesn't make me feel safe, doesn't feel like you, and I'm sorry I did this, but god damn it Edward, I love you!”

 

“You were never a thing, never, never, Al, never!”

 

Like an arc, from a transmutation circle to a pair of offered, reaching hands, Ed flowed back into his side and stayed. His warmth, rolling in waves against shuddering flesh. His eyes, panicked and warm and golden, desperately trying to assure him that it was alright. Even though it probably wasn't; not in a world like this, not in a place where rejection was as varied as fear itself.

 

“And I love you.”

 

And his lips, so much more real than innumerable fantasies, so much more delightful than any other sensation ever experienced. Liquid lighting flowing into his veins, with the rain of Ed touching him softly, arms behind his back, fingers tangled in his long hair.

 

Breath, puffing against his lips, as Ed murmured, “And I`ll always love you.”

 

Pleas fell from him, falling and cupped in his brother's shining eyes, constantly asking if he was okay with this as they tumbled onto the soft mattress, the wool biting into their skin and adding to the sensation of torment and pleasure. “Ed, are you sure, I wouldn't want…don't do this if…”

 

“I want you.” Gasping, pressing his mouth against a slim throat, and pressing against the utter life that crept there….Al knew he had never heard anything more truthful pass from his brother's thoughts. “I want you Al, god, I've wanted you for so long I thought I'd die with it.”

 

Kisses slipping, wet and hot, along his jaw line as he arched at the words, a feeling like silky cream being poured throughout him as teeth grazed against his ear.

 

“You were so soft and warm and real…you were back, my Al, always my Al…no other for me…never could be--”. Breathing hard and breaking the torrent, hands across his back, edging under his thin cotton nightshirt and brushing fingertips, one set warm and rough, the other slick and cool, along his aching skin.

 

“I know it's wrong, but I can't help it” Ed finished by whispering, guilt in his subtle touches, in the lines around his worried golden eyes.

 

Al pulled him closer, so that lips touched lips, and his heart couldn't break anymore from his brother's real…was this real, or just a dream, a dream of storming feelings and wind filled lungs…real, real and true and shining in the darkness that surrounded them words, of promised love and pain and tenderness and oh he could barely even think, how sweet this was…

 

The thunder stroked the air, like his brother did his skin; brash, full of curious sounds, full of wonderful insight. There was raw passion in the clumsy trails Ed blazed down his body, causing shivers in his heated flesh, causing hot flashes where he was chilled to the bone. Their lips and mouths met awkwardly; tongues lashing, slick and warm and unpractised and so lovely Al thought he would die from the feeling of wet heat that unfurled between them.

 

Al had inadvertently released the torrent inside of Ed, for the elder Elric found that even if Al had begged him not to do this, even if he himself had a million reasons why he shouldn't be touching that soft skinned face, those cheeks so like his own…

 

Ed found he would never have been able to stop, and the thought didn't frighten him like it might have only moments ago. This was sweetness. This was right.

 

This was Al.

 

Al, whose mouth carried the faintest taste of cinnamon, mixed with the heady taste of iron, making him groan. Al, who flinched, crying out as his tongue explored the line of his jaw, shuddering into the touch as Ed repeated the action, mild amusement lacing through the roaring, uninhibited lust. Al, who was crying out, hips pulsing up against his and chasing reason away, chasing away the fear, the doubt, and that echoing uncertainty.

 

It didn't seem wrong, something that felt so right.

 

Al pulled Ed back to him, to his face and his mouth, and he watched through half lidded eyes as Ed's hands came together slowly; the flash of light, the arcing smell of ozone, and their clothes were dissolving like mist in the sun, threads sliding off their bodies. Bare skin met bare skin, chest and stomach pressing heavily against each other, and mouths were furious with the passion that exploded between them, more than rivalling the storm which was destroying the world outside.

 

Al kept arching upwards, pressing his slick, hot swollen length against Ed's own; the silky hairs there almost ticklish as they ground against each other in their haste. Looking down their writhing bodies, Al shut his eyes and gasped; every sight he had seen thus far, every single momentous thing he had locked his eyes on, didn't compare to this sight. Of the silky white threads slipping from the head of their cocks, pooling where their groins met and ground into each others skin. Of the ash blonde hairs that surrounded Ed's strident length, rearing eagerly above a dusky plum sac, which looked soft and full and just for him.

 

“God, Ed!” The sharp yelp that was wrung from full, blood red lips made Ed smirk in delight.

 

“Do you like this, Al?” he hissed, grinding into him again, revelling in the stain of red which crept from Al's heaving chest to his cheeks. Flashing bronze eyes glared up at him, hot with love and anger, as arms came around his scarred back, fingers caressing the sensitive skin around his automail port.

 

“I love it…”

 

They rocked together like they might have done in the cradle, and with much the same innocence one may expect to find therein. Guilty passions raced through them, flushing their skin, beading on their touching foreheads, but passion has been what it has always and forever been; a free spirit, uncaring of mankind's mortal coils, of haste and rapture and the darkness. Furious kisses, rough caresses…sin confined to a small bed, for however long this rhapsody endured. Muscles writhing against each other like snakes, skin tightening on inner thighs as Al spread his legs willingly, moaning and shivering at the new delights the altered position offered as Ed sank between them like he was slipping underwater.

 

Gasps escaped their swollen lips, pressing hot and close against blushing cheeks. Al couldn't help the deep groans escaping him, seemingly escaping confine from the bottom of his feet as they terrorised their way throughout his body. Ed was panting shrilly, burying his forehead into the crook of Al's shoulder as his hips pumped harder and faster, raising the thrill, speeding the light.

 

Their cocks slapped together with short, sharp, slick noises, both young men biting into the kiss they exchanged as Ed's sac brushed Al's entire length, from base to dripping tip. Golden eyes, flaring with the warmth of a thousand suns, didn't look away as he turned to stare into melting umber, repeating the manoeuvre tentatively. The flush of victory as Al arched, nearly screaming at the sensation. The dew of sweat gather on his fine boned neck, so long and thin just like his own.

 

This was too new to last, and far too sweet to bear; Al came, shattering the gasping near-silence, shuddering and seeing only white, crying out, clutching his brother so hard that he left red marks raking down the scarred back his fingers so desperately sought.

 

“Brother…!”

 

“Oh God, Al,” Ed whispered reverently, watching the pure pleasure running shock fast through his brothers lifting, twisting body. This was what he had searched for all these years, perhaps; evidence that Alphonse was alive, gloriously, breathtakingly, magnificently alive. So vibrant was he in the middle of this, Ed couldn't help but kiss those widened lips again as again as he slowly pushed the rhythm further.

 

Pulsing richness seeped between their groins from Al's release, and Ed whimpered as his own orgasm started, rubbing against the wetness, imagining being buried in tighter heat as he quaked into Al's long, lean body.

 

Lightning ruptured the heavens.

 

Thunder tore apart the wind, as it screamed past the window.

 

And two men slept in each others arms, not caring about the consequences, not caring about what had just happened, but just happy to be covered in the scents of the night and storm. And, of course, each other.

 

 

 

 

 

*** The End ***