Series: Full Metal Alchemist

Rating: NC-17

Pairing: Elricest (Ed/Al)

Warnings: Armor!Sex, Incest, lemon, yaoi,

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…and somebody please tell me where I muck up! You're all far too nice to me. ;;

Dedications: For and for my god damn spell check, which changed Armor!Sex into remorse. Not that I don't sometimes agree with it, but still…n.n;;;

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Stress was something that one couldn't imagine a suit of armour ever relieving. There's no possible way that a massage from leather gloved hands, or murmuring whispers spilling, echoing, inside silent metal could ever make somebody feel better, even if the intentions behind it were pure and heartfelt. Ed knew that this was wrong, because of a simple few, hard proven truths that he recorded with a smile, in the journal that documented their lives. Al liked to take care of things; it was in his nature to help, to console, to comfort and provide succour for the needy. To feed or hold or simply talk. It was enough for all who knew that side of him.

Kittens flocked to Al because he was gentle with them, genuinely concerned for their safety, so they didn't mind much if metal caught on silky fur, or if a touch that was meant to be soft was just a little too rough. They sensed his authentic happiness in soothing their pain or misery, and that was enough for them.

Little kids followed Al like ducklings after their mother, curious about him and his armour, the childlike voice that reverberated from behind soul light eyes. But they also followed him for the smiles he sort of gave them, tilting his head to the side and softening his eyes until they were barely glowing, chuckling as they poked at the emptiness inside the suit that amazed and terrified them at the same time. He always had time for them, so it wasn't unusual to see Al surrounded by a flock of children during the day, running riot all over headquarters and making the soldiers on post sigh and shake their heads.

So when Ed stormed into the dorm room they shared, kicking his boots off so hard that they hit the wall and left large dents, Al instantly perceived the tension that made his brother's eyes glow like molten, furious gold.

Not that it wasn't obvious, from the ranting that spilled from Ed's lips as he stomped over to kick his bed several times, obviously in the foulest sort of mood imaginable.

"What happened this time," Al sighed, beyond used to it as he moved out of the warpath, just as a metal fist came sailing at his chest plate. "Was it Hawkeye telling you to wear a uniform, or the Colonel making fun of your height again?"

An animal growl started to escape curling lips, and all Ed's golden braid practically stood on end as it turned into a yowl of utter fury.

"Height and uniform" Al whispered to himself, and shook his head as the pot plant in the corner - a gift from the Hughes on Ed's fourteenth birthday, since he had accidentally transfigured the goldfish of the year before into little gravy covered biscuits and therefore could not be trusted with anything remotely intelligent – started to smoke, and then caught fire from the alchemic waves pouring from Ed's twitching fingertips.

"That bastard! That inconceivably selfish, petulant, pustulant, self satisfied son-of-a-bitch! How dare he call me a deformed flea on the back of an amoeba!" Ed paced like an angry bull, pent up frustration venting from him in hissed curses as Al retrieved a washbasin from their small bathroom to throw over the smouldering, blackened fern.

His younger brother clucked in sympathy.

"The nerve of that…that….that pompous jackass! I swear to God, Al, if I don't start getting treated with respect I'm gonna rip his goodies off of him and feed it to him! And then I'll make him eat it again!"

Al paused in watching steam curl from the drooping fern, question marks exploding all around his head. "How are you going to do that?"

One look at Ed's demented smile, and the twitching nerve beneath his eye, gave Al all the answers he needed. He shuddered. Sometimes his brother, to put it plainly, scared the shit out of him – well, would of, if he had been able to perform that particular bodily function. He dumped the remaining blackened wet char out the window as Ed threw himself onto his bed violently enough to throw himself right back again.

"Fuck" Ed muttered to himself miserably, clutching his head in pain as he curled into a foetal position on the rug. He looked up blearily, tears from his fall pricking his eyes as Al's compassionate shadow loomed over him. "Come on brother, I'll make you a nice cup of tea."

"I don't want a cup of tea," he grumbled as Al picked him up bodily, dumping him gently on the bed, leaving him to rip off his red jacket in one jerky movement. Al pulled a wooden chest from their wardrobe, emptying the contents onto the bed as he used the remaining liquid in the washbasin for hot water, humming to himself as he measured tea leaves into a strainer. "One lump or two?"

"Twenty lumps on the Colonel Bastard's head and you've got yourself a deal."

"Two, then."

Al had to admit that he had selfish reasons for making Ed a calming brew of chamomile and peppermint, which the older Elric always declared tasted like horse piss before he drank it anyway. He loved the greenish stain that infused itself into the hot water, loved the way the steam curled around him as he leant over the antique iron kettle that had generations of leaves infused into its black belly.

Not that he would ever state that to Edward, who had once laughed himself sick when Al had confessed he loved ribbons. So he loved the more delicate things in life. At least he didn't have a strange sensual fondness for doilies like Havoc did.

Al shuddered again.

"I just don't get why I have to be measured for another uniform. It's not like the old one's buggered, or anything." Al glanced at the tattered blue remains lying on top of the wardrobe, stained with a mixture of oil, blood and dirt, and creaked his way over to Ed with the tea cup perched delicately in his outstretched palms. The alchemist took it with a somewhat grateful sigh.

A few seconds passed.

"This tastes like horse piss." Good old Ed, as reliable as clockwork, but at least he settled back onto his pillow with a grunt, bringing his knees up close to his body so he could lean the cup on them. "And that crack about my height was uncalled for. I'm sure I've grown since the last time I got a new uniform."

It was working; he wasn't flying off the handle at the mere mention of his somewhat vertically challenged stature. He was even bringing it up himself in a roundabout manner. Al cheered inside as he sat on the end of the bed, watching his brother sip carefully, pretending not to notice his exaggerated grimaces at the taste. "Why don't you just ask him to stop it?"

Ed gave him a scathing look that spelled out, in so many words, exactly what he thought of that brilliant idea. Al raised his arms defensively, hands out in a warding gesture, shaking his head. "Just a thought."

"Do me a favour. Stop thinking."

"So what else happened? It's not like you to get this upset because Mustang made fun of your – your…" and Al deliberately ignored the flames rising behind his somewhat deranged brother, "What he made fun of, so, what else?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Ed flushed an angry red as he turned his head, staring pensively out the window as he twirled the tea in his left hand. If Al could have raised eyebrows, he would have, as high as they would go. "Brother?"

"Drop it, Al."

"Brother!"

"I got hard in the office, alright!"

"Oh." Al blinked about a million times as Ed curled up into himself, looking as mortified as an Elric could get. Well. That certainly explained a few things. Al clucked again as he shifted a little bit down the bed, trying to seem sympathetic - even though he was cackling like a hen on the inside. "Well…uh, that's not too bad."

"Hawkeye noticed. Thought it was for her."

Al winced at the misery in Ed's tone, and knew what would have likely transpired after such an insubordinate action, especially if the crazy Riza woman noticed. "Shit."

"Yep."

The brothers sat in silence for a moment, before a muffled wheeze tried to escape Al's helmet. Instantly golden eyes flared, Ed howling as he tossed a pillow at the shaking suit of armour that was supposed to be on his side. "It's not god damn funny!"

Al just cackled, falling off the bed as his hands grabbed at his sides – which weren't heaving, but it was reflex born from so many years of making fun of Ed, so he couldn't exactly stop it.

"Alphonse Elric!" Like a yowling cat, Ed pounced on him, the cup of tea going flying and smashing against the wall as the two swung back against the floor, Al still laughing as Ed pummelled him with a flesh fist. "Stop it!" For the second time that day Ed was hurled to the floor, and he glared as Al continued rocking back and forth, nearly wailing out the hysterics filling him. "Aww, Al, come on!"

"I-I'm sorry b-brother, but i-it's f-f-funny!"

"Is not," Ed muttered, but couldn't stop his smile as he hid his reddening face. It was rare when Al lost this much control, and it was warming to see him genuinely happy - Ed turned it into a scowl as he remembered it was at his expense, and kicked out an automail foot, clanging it into Al's side and causing reverberations to fill the room.

"It's not funny."

"I know," Al sighed, still hiccuping from whatever throat his voice came from, seemingly grinning as he rocked himself back up, so that he was sitting on the floor, legs splayed. "Come here, brother, I didn't mean to laugh."

"Yes, you did," Ed grumbled, but he complied, knees scraping on the floor until he collapsed onto his little brothers lap, blinking as warm leather gloves started to un-braid his hair. It was peaceful, the feel of animal hide against his wiry golden strands, and he groaned slightly as fingertips started to massage his scalp, focusing on the aching spots behind his ears. "Al…"

"So what did you get hard thinking about?" Al asked the question innocently, stroking his hands down Ed's neck, watching the taught muscles there slowly contract, and then relax. "It must have been something pretty good, if you couldn't make it stop."

"Thinking of- ohhh…of you…."

"Thought so," Al said gently, running the palm of his hand over a rounded, yet angular shoulder, smiling as shivers littered their way through pale, creamy skin. "You can always come back here at lunch, brother. I don't mind taking care of things during the day."

"I don't want you to just take care of them…" Ed started to pull away, a black scowl starting to form on his thin features, and Al sighed impatiently as he jerked his older brother back, so that he was cradled against him. "I didn't mean it like that, and you know it."

He stroked Ed's side until the black look started to subside, letting the wards he knew as truth slowly flood his brother and take away the shame, and fear, that had started to build. It had taken Ed a long time to accept the need he had – the passion, the want, for his little brother – and it was still as fragile as February blossoms, able to shatter at a single moment. Al honestly didn't mind – he loved the way Edward reacted to his touch, golden eyes full of bliss, panting and relaxed and wanting him – it was one of the things he wished most for, that he could do when they got his body back.

"Get undressed, brother," he whispered then, watching the shock of words travel through that whip thin body like lightning, and if he had been able to lick his lips he would have. Ed glanced up at him, gold full of lust and fire, and he nodded slowly as he slithered onto the floor, hands reaching tentatively for his shirts clasps.

It was unbelievably sensual; the way Edward Elric discarded his clothes when he wanted to get rid of them right away. He rushed, but that didn't stop him from running his hands across newly exposed skin, gasping as metal fingers tweaked a revealed nipple, groaning as he slid the other down the washboard of his stomach and lingering on the trail of golden hair that led to his groin. He loved to touch himself…similarly, Al loved to watch him to it.

Al reached forward, burying his hands in golden strands, hissing as Ed rocked himself forward at the touch. He glanced down so he could watch the bulge forming between Ed's legs, pushing harshly against his black pants, and sighed as Ed flung his black tank sideways, already starting to sweat a little. "And the pants."

It was a good thing Ed had already removed his heavy boots, Al mused, as his brother tried to wriggled frantically out of his trousers, cursing as automail caught and grasped the material, falling onto his back and panting harshly as Al took over with a little more patience. In about the same time it took to make a cup of tea, Ed was naked before him, legs resting on his own and spread, hands running up and down his stomach.

"God, Al…" the elder Elric groaned softly, lifting his hips involuntarily into the air as his half-hard cock was brushed by retreating gloves, already dribbling a little precome as he ran his flesh hand over his balls. Al watched greedily as the length twitched for a moment, and then tossed the ruined pants to the side, already digging around under the closest bed for a jar of oil.

Once found, he carefully opened and placed the amber liquid to the side, more fascinated for the moment in the blonde curls that surrounded rampant, reddening flesh. He stroked the area around his brother's groin teasingly, brushing fingers along the soft inner skin of his thighs until they began to twitch uncontrollably, Ed moaning and flinging his head to the side. "Don't tease…"

Al answered by cupping his downy sac in one hand, rolling his balls against each other as the other closed around Ed's cock, squeezing gently. Ed, naturally, practically hit the ceiling, mouth open as he arched up and to his left, hands scrabbling over Al's and making him hold still, so he could rock slightly into the touch. The squeaky gasps falling from his mouth were delicious, and Al drank his fill as his brother effectively started to hump his hands.

Sweat glistened on his chest, highlighted and shadowed by the crimson of the setting afternoon sun, twisting snaking lines across trembling flesh and hardened nipples. He couldn't help but groan as Al rubbed his thump over the head of his cock, trying so hard to be gentle but being rougher than he had thought he would be. But it felt good, damn good, and Ed twisted his lips as a whine tried to escape him.

"Please, Al! Please!"

He stared at the hulking, barely seen shape before him, trying to wrap his legs around a wide metal waist, grasping his leather hands now more for comfort then anything else as soul light eyes curved into a gentle smile. "Please?" he whispered, and shuddered as metal groaned in agreement, Al leaning slightly forward as he placed one hand underneath him, the other still intent on teasing the most amount of silky strands from his pulsing length.

Ed had placed his heels on the varnished timber floor, pushing his legs further apart, and Al took advantage of the fact as he began to explore – for the hundredth time – the beautiful inner secrets of the golden boys body. He had a small freckle on the inside of his right cheek, and Al stared at it for a moment, before his attention was drawn towards the twitching pink pucker his spreading fingers had revealed.

Honestly, Al thought, pure awe filling his soul as Ed yelped, arching into and away from the touch as a finger prodded carefully; he had never seen anything more beautiful, more alive than this. It was a blessing that he could see, that he could will this body to move.

He would be lost, if he couldn't do this.

Ed licked his lips, eyes rolling back in his head as Al traced his entrance again, this time cold and shocking with the almond oil he had smuggled back to central from Liore. They were lucky it hadn't gone funny in the heat; now it was something Al treasured, his brother relaxing and opening like a flower in the sun, so responsive to his touch he didn't really have to press forward to be enveloped in tight, scorching heat.

Not that he could really feel it, as such.

But, by God, he could fucking imagine.

Ed groaned as he was penetrated deeper, hips trying to pump into the air even as he convulsed, all his muscles thrumming and tightening from the thrilling invasion. A strong hand petted his aching cock soothingly, distant murmurs trying to comfort as he was suddenly speared roughly, leather finger going deep and rubbing against the suddenly protesting lines inside. "Fuck, Al!"

Al barely payed him any attention, instead focusing at the sun that had crept inside their room, incomplete and yet wondrous none the less. Dazzling tanned skin, flashing white teeth, burning ochre eyes, the steady weep of a crimson arousal; automail burning with reflected flame, the real sun casting the barest of light, but it was enough. God, it was enough.

"Al?" His little brother had paused, something that had him squirming, gasping as that finger slid a little deeper but doing nothing else, trying to clear his eyes of the white spots that had overtaken him. "Al, are you ok?"

"Beautiful…" Al whispered reverently, and Edward blushed as that leather finger began to move, slowly withdrawing until the pink pucker tightened around a shaking fingertip. They both groaned as Al sunk it back in leisurely, the younger whining at the shock of pleasure that whipped its way through lean muscles and joints; clenching hands, parted lips, half lidded eyes that sent a million thoughts of love through the space between them.

It was easy enough to create a rhythm for Edward that they both enjoyed, physically and spiritually. Sometimes his brother asked for roughness; a thing Al could never do without plaintive requests for something else, something different…something not so disturbingly pleasurable to fulfil. Today was mellow, however, and it was a rapture of the sweet kind as Ed responded to the gentleness Al was trying so hard to offer.

It was so easy, to release the tension locked like tigers inside him.

Ed knew this routine better than he knew the million different ways one could take 'short' in wrong context. He panted softly as he wrapped his hands around his cock, wincing in appreciation as Al drizzled some of the still cool oil over all the things they held. He bit his lip as Al began a steady, rocking rhythm; something that wouldn't draw it out, but still had room for the torture his sadistic little brother seemed so damn fond of.

"You fucking asshole," he bit out, and Al laughed as he started to raise his pale backside into the air, goading for a faster pace.

"Isn't that what I'm doing?"

"You crude fucking asshole."

Al's shivery snickers flooded the air, combining with the moaning falling from wet, parted lips. Flares of electricity flared inside Ed's lower belly at the double sensation; of cool metal fingertips tracing the weeping slit on his length, of the warmed and nearly unbearably smooth hands that prodded clumsily at the sweet place inside him, the one that sent ice trickling up and down his spine. It wasn't long before he was rocking desperately, neck arching, shoulders squared, moans escaping him softly before he could clamp his mouth shut on them.

It was a terrible sort of fascination, to plunge his fingers inside quickly, into convulsing muscles and pass twitching rings. The wet sounds that escaped their rough, worldly connection was enough to make lights flare, in and around the seal that bound him to mortal pleasures and ghostly sensation. It was a form of heaven to thrust in and out wildly, to watch the flush on Ed's sweaty chest grow and spread, to see those sparkling tears line his tightly clenched eyes as he came, and came hard.

Al wished for this; for sin, for closeness, for him to be the one receiving such attention as Ed fell into bliss with him. His one true wish.

Glistening, white strands spurted in a seemingly never ending stream from the crimson head, coating Ed's still jerking fingers as he bucked into the sensation, wailing deep and low in the back of his throat as Al pushed in as far as he could go and stayed there, leaving him with the fullness that he craved.

"God, Allllllllll…!"

"So beautiful, brother…"

He collapsed, shuddering and panting, fingers curling protectively around his sensitive skin and smearing his come everywhere. Golden eyes lost their wild flare slowly, leaving glimmering ochre that looked into deadlights lovingly, the smallest of tired grins on his thin, sweaty face. "You're beautiful, Al," he whispered, and received the only smile Al could ever give him, and that was enough.

Enough for the ache that sometimes said that this was wrong, when his heart screamed for Al's kisses of metal jaw to chest, his hands, even the soft lilt in his voice when he spoke to Ed and Ed alone; he banished it to the dark places of his mind, where his mother and amethyst eyes lurked, afraid of the shining light that came from them being together.

Ed snorted to himself softly. Not like he'd ever tell Al that he thought of him this way; sappiness was his brother's forte, and never his. Well, sometimes it was, but that didn't really matter.

So Al put him to bed, and the sun set, and the wall was forever stained by horse piss that, nevertheless, comforted Ed when he was hurting. Because Al liked to take care of things and Ed was one of his favourite subjects.

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The End