Written for Manian as a fic exchange. ;)

Seven Times; Happier
by Maaya

You don't kiss your own brother.

Edward can't help it.

He doesn't know when he started to imagine it. It's like he always has, even though he is rather sure the thought had never crossed his mind when he had been a child, probably never when Alphonse had still been in a human body. But it's not a matter of the body when Edward imagines. It's the lack of one that forces him do it in the first place.

It's bitter how it is only in Edward's dreams, in his imagination, that Alphonse has a body of flesh and blood. It is sweet and addictive; Edward can't stop thinking about it.

It doesn't stop at the kiss. It doesn't always begin with a kiss.

Sometimes, Edward can find himself staring at Alphonse's chest-plate, deep in thoughts and Alphonse growing more and more flustered.

Just like now, this moment.

"Brother!"

Biting his lip, Edward feels his cheeks heat and he shifts his weight from his real foot to the automail one. He grins through the embarrassment. The expression is painful to hold. "Uhh, sorry. Was just thinking."

Like Alphonse would ever believe that. Edward is proud of his little brother, but why does Alphonse have to be so damn smart? Painfully naive one moment, horribly perspective the next.

At least he is tactful this time. Simply handing Edward a book, Alphonse has apparently just been looking for someone to discuss some alchemist's written contradiction with. Edward reads the passage his brother points out and finds comfort in the familiarity of the written word.

It might not be easy to ignore the dreams Edward finds so wrong. But for now, ignoring is the only thing he can do.

---

To some extent, Alphonse imagines he knows what his big brother is thinking, has been thinking for a while now. It is worse than awkward, it leads to embarrassed silences and something of a strange uncertainty around them, something Alphonse hasn't ever experienced. At least not since that time after the fifth laboratory, and that had still not been quite the same.

Back then, he had been afraid of losing everything. Now, Alphonse is afraid of changes; that everything about them will change. Better not talk about it. Something might happen.

Alphonse knows his brother believes it is wrong. Alphonse doesn't think like that, because nothing about Edward will ever be wrong. It is just awkward, nothing that Alphonse himself feels. And he is pretty sure that, to make things work, they would both have to feel it.

He knows that Edward doesn't want pity but it becomes that anyway. Pity and guilt. The feelings don't pain him because he cannot actually, really feel them. They're just there, puzzling and embarrassing and not quite what they should be.

Alphonse wonders if the reason he doesn't feel what Edward feels is because he can't physically recognize it.

They don't have time for this. Alphonse looks down at his big not-human hands and watches as they clench. They have something they must do first.

---

Days come and pass and when it comes to that, they don't have time to think much about it. It doesn't hit Alphonse until he one day plays with Den, is enjoying the feeling of sun-warmed short fur against him, enjoying feeling at all, and he realizes that Edward is watching him.

His brother is sitting on the kitchen table as Winry does check-ups on his automail arm. He grimaces every time she hits a nerve and rolls his eyes at the rough treatment she is giving him.

And he is Looking at Alphonse.

Alphonse realizes too late that they are staring at each other. Their eyes meet in a way they haven't quite before. They both blush.

They look away.

---

Somehow, it hurts not to look at Edward. Alphonse wishes he could turn his head and look again, but he doesn't dare to.

Alphonse likes looking at his brother. That isn't unusual, is it? He likes looking at his brother all the time. That is unusual.

It is confusing. He wonders, is this what Edward felt, back then? Wrong, not wrong. It's not wrong. It's just unusual.

Alphonse hopes.

---

Back when they were kids, before alchemy had become their biggest interest, Edward and Alphonse had used to go fishing together. While Alphonse can't remember ever getting a fish, he fondly remembers sitting by the riverside with his brother, neither feeling the need to speak. That comfortable silence, the sun, the water, the grass, just being together, it had felt good.

It makes Alphonse happy when he understands that Edward remembers it, as well. They decide to make a grand re-creation of it; half laughing they carry some old fishing-rods with them to the river and find the old place they used to sit at. They settle down, quiet, and start fishing.

It is...not quite awkward. But it isn't what Alphonse remembered it to be. It has been too long; things have changed. The silence is still there, it is still comfortable. The sun is there, too, and the water and the grass, and they are together.

They sit there stubbornly for several hours without catching a single glimpse of a fish. Finally, Alphonse realizes that Edward has fallen asleep. He never used to do that. This happening is unfamiliar, nothing that Alphonse remembers and can find comfort in. But it isn't bad either.

He listens to Edward's deep half-snoring breaths. It isn't what it used to be, but Alphonse thinks he likes it.

Soon, he gives up on the fishing. He leans back in the grass and watches Edward sleep instead.

---

Edward knows that girls often share water-bottles and licks on the same lollipops and ice-creams, apparently not minding each others' saliva and germs. Boys don't do that, not with each other at least.

Only, he and Alphonse have never minded it.

Edward wonders if sharing an ice-cream with Alphonse is the same thing as...well. But he shouldn't be thinking that.

He still offers some of his ice-cream for Alphonse to taste. Chocolate, the best kind. Both their favourite.

They end up sharing the whole cone.

---

They go fishing again. It's not a half-parody anymore, Winry seems surprised to see them go all seriously to get the rods from the shed, a room where they also store two old bikes, unused flower-pots andsomething Edward always mutters is creepya number of left-over arm and leg prostheses.

They walk to the river silently. For some reason, they choose a different place to sit this time.

Well settled, they sit beside each other, staring at the water.

Alphonse suddenly takes a step by leaning against his brother, somehow not at all nervous or afraid of doing it. He thinks, perhaps, the quiet around them is calming his mind.

Edward's shoulder stiffens under Alphonse's head. Slowly, very slowly, Alphonse hears his brother take a deep breath and the body against him forces itself to relax. Edward smells of sun and sweat and inner tensionwhatever that smells likeand it is fine.

Alphonse closes his eyes and soon, the air feels easier around them and Edward is hesitantly starting to lean against him as well.

Suddenly, Alphonse realizes he can't understand why this is considered wrong. Not when it feels so nice. He likes his brother. No one should have anything else to say about it.

The silence is comfortable, just like it should be.

---

end