Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2006-06-23 12:38 pm
said_scarlett) wrote2006-06-23 12:38 pm
Souvenirs Beneath The Skin - Ed/Al - PG-13
Internet still kind of pissy. Makes research hell. It seems to be worst in the mornings/early afternoon. But I wrote a fic instead of fiddling with it. I was going to do that random song lyrics fic meme, but I only managed one fic because the song that came up first inspired me massively. Which is odd, considering I have very, very strong assosiations when it comes to this song.
Title: Souvenirs Beneath The Skin
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
theladyfeylene
Pairing: Ed/Al
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,435
Spoilers: Movie Spoilers
Author's Notes: Technically this takes place in my Leyna-verse, as a direct sequel to 'Ever Changing, Ever the Same', but it can stand alone.
Summary: How did these things happen? Alphonse got ideas in his head and never let go, and Ed always found himself going along with a smile.
Song Lyrics:
"Monday I'm gonna take a ride
on the M-train down to Coney Island,
with the money I saved,
gonna get me engraved."
- Red Dragon Tattoo, by Fountains of Wayne
“You know, for all everybody says about America, it’s not all that great.” Edward Elric paused, glancing in a shop window.
“Brother, how can you say that?” Alphonse didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘pause’ these days. He was always moving, always looking, always touching. Edward couldn’t help but smile, sometimes.
“It’s just a huge country.” Ed shrugged. The vast skyscrapers and modern innovations of America interested him to some extent, but only in a very technical sense. The architecture was fascinating, and the machinery that was employed to create the marvelous modern wonders caught his attention, but he couldn’t care less about much else. And they’d seen quite a bit else.
They’d arrived in San Francisco and stayed with friends, remaining in the bustling city for a week before moving on. They’d made their way east, stopping in small towns, large cities and everything in between. Alphonse wanted to see everything. Ed indulged him, and had to admit that it wasn’t bad. The flat plains of the Midwest had been boring, but the red rock mountains that came before had been a sight to see. And the Grand Canyon, that great gaping gash of stone and silt that split the southwest in two had been well worth the trip. Now they had come to New York, their last stop on their cross-country adventure.
“But it’s an amazing country!”
“I don’t know.” Ed shrugged. “America’s supposed to be this place that welcomes everybody, but they ought to say ‘everybody that looks like the people who first landed here’.”
“But everywhere has problems like that,” Al pointed out. “Back in Germany…”
“But this isn’t Germany.” It was the fact that all he’d heard was how America welcomed everybody, but what they really meant was that America welcomed anybody who spoke English, had the right color skin and didn’t try to get a job. People could be so stupid about things like that. If he didn’t have his automail, would he be looked down on and sneered at as a cripple?
“And we’re on holiday,” Al said, frowning slightly. “And there’s going to be people who don’t think the way they should everywhere we go. They’re ignorant, and it‘s sad, but it‘s how people are. Someday everybody will learn.”
Always the idealist, his brother. Ed just shook his head, wandering along the boardwalk of Coney Island. It had been Al’s idea to come, taking the subway for a day on the amusement filled resort that ran along the beach. It was impressive, Ed had to admit. The engineering that had to have gone into the rides piqued his interest. It was nothing like the fairs back in Germany. He felt a slight pang of nostalgia and regret, but shook it away. It was early fall and the sun was bright and the breeze was cool and Alphonse was beside him. It wasn’t a time to get caught up in bad memories.
Suddenly, Alphonse made a small noise. Ed looked over at his brother, puzzled.
“Ed! Look!” Al was whispering and pointing as discreetly and emphatically as he could. Ed followed his brother’s gaze and saw immediately what had caused the younger Elric to gasp. There was a large man in an undershirt and suspenders, eating an ice cream cone a few feet away from them. And he was covered in tattoos. Nearly every inch of skin that Ed could see was inked in some sort of design.
“Why would anybody want to do that?” Ed asked, aloud.
“What? Get a tattoo?”
“Not get a tattoo, cover themselves in tattoos.” Ed shuddered.
“I don’t know. He must like them though.” Al shrugged. “Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”
“People say it does, but I bet it doesn’t.” Ed really couldn’t imagine a tattoo being all that painful, especially after the pain he’d endured.
“Really?” Al raised his eyebrows as though he didn’t quite believe his brother.
“Yeah, really. It’s just a tattoo. Teacher had a tattoo, remember? I bet she didn’t think it hurt at all.”
“I never asked.” Alphonse pursed his lips. “I still think it would hurt. It’s done with a needle.”
“That’s no big deal.” They were walking again, ambling along at a comfortable pace as they debated whether or not having ink injected into one’s skin by a needle would be particularly painful.
“I still think it hurts,” Al said, with a tone of finality.
“Get one and find out then.” Ed responded, shaking his head with a grin.
“Me?” Al punched him lightly on the shoulder - the left shoulder - and returned the grin. “You’re the one who doesn’t think it hurts, you get one.”
“I wouldn’t know what to get.” It was clear they had descended into teasing now, and Ed turned and walked backwards for a few paces, smiling cheekily at his brother.
“And I would?” Al sped up to a trot, catching up with Ed who had moved ahead of him. “Besides, you’d look better with one anyway. You‘d look really good with one, actually.”
Al flushed slightly, and Ed did as well, and an awkward silence passed between them. There were so many of those these days. For weeks, they hadn’t touched at all. They’d slept in separate beds, strained away from one another, almost afraid to touch. And Ed had been afraid, some lurking fear gripping him whenever he thought of laying hands to his brother’s body. But it had faded and now they touched at every chance, most likely too much and in ways that most people frowned upon between siblings. But it wasn’t talked about, because there was really nothing to say. They got along fine and with only a few askance looks from anyone who was witness to their more-than-familial displays of affection.
It would be easier, of course, if Al didn’t flirt with him in public.
“You’re doing it again,” Ed reminded him, gently. Especially here in America, where everyone seemed to get up in arms over everything that wasn’t conventional. Americans had some serious issues, Ed had decided.
“Sorry.” Al ducked his head. “But it’s true.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it is. I’m still not getting a tattoo.” he looked over at Al, almost slyly. “Unless you get one, too.”
“I’d look ridiculous with a tattoo!” Al responded.
“Come on, we could get matching ones and everything.” The glint in Ed’s eyes said he was joking, and Al grinned widely and looped his arm through his brother’s, and Ed glanced around quickly to make sure no one was paying any attention to them.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Al was teasing him back.
“Dunno.” Ed said. “Never thought about it before. It‘d have to be something neat, though.”
“And red,” Al said, suddenly serious. “On your shoulder. Back here.” Al reached up and pressed his palm against the flat plane of muscle beneath Ed’s shoulder blades.
“Hey, who’s getting this tattoo, me or you?” But Ed was still smiling.
“We both are,“ Al reminded him. How did these things happen? Always so quickly and with teasing and joking, and then the idea would be in Al’s head and he’d turn serious. He was still watching Ed, his smile holding less amusement now. “If you can figure out what you want. But I still think it‘ll hurt.” And then the grin was back, suddenly, all seriousness dropped.
It was nice. Al’s arm twined in his, holding him close as they continued along the boulevard, apparently looking for some sort of tattoo parlor since it seemed to have been decided they were actually getting them. At least he could prove to Al that it didn’t hurt at all, since he still couldn’t comprehend something as small as a needle hurting anywhere near to anything else either of them had felt.
Ed looked down suddenly, and the fall light was reflecting in Al’s eyes and his hair was the same color as the turning leaves - muted brown with hints of gold - and Ed wanted to kiss him, right then and there on the boardwalk. But then Al was pulling away, one hand grasping Ed’s and hauling him off in the direction of a small brightly colored building that offered tattoos, laughing loudly and clearly in the crisp fall.
Title: Souvenirs Beneath The Skin
Author:
theladyfeylenePairing: Ed/Al
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,435
Spoilers: Movie Spoilers
Author's Notes: Technically this takes place in my Leyna-verse, as a direct sequel to 'Ever Changing, Ever the Same', but it can stand alone.
Summary: How did these things happen? Alphonse got ideas in his head and never let go, and Ed always found himself going along with a smile.
Song Lyrics:
"Monday I'm gonna take a ride
on the M-train down to Coney Island,
with the money I saved,
gonna get me engraved."
- Red Dragon Tattoo, by Fountains of Wayne
“You know, for all everybody says about America, it’s not all that great.” Edward Elric paused, glancing in a shop window.
“Brother, how can you say that?” Alphonse didn’t seem to know the meaning of the word ‘pause’ these days. He was always moving, always looking, always touching. Edward couldn’t help but smile, sometimes.
“It’s just a huge country.” Ed shrugged. The vast skyscrapers and modern innovations of America interested him to some extent, but only in a very technical sense. The architecture was fascinating, and the machinery that was employed to create the marvelous modern wonders caught his attention, but he couldn’t care less about much else. And they’d seen quite a bit else.
They’d arrived in San Francisco and stayed with friends, remaining in the bustling city for a week before moving on. They’d made their way east, stopping in small towns, large cities and everything in between. Alphonse wanted to see everything. Ed indulged him, and had to admit that it wasn’t bad. The flat plains of the Midwest had been boring, but the red rock mountains that came before had been a sight to see. And the Grand Canyon, that great gaping gash of stone and silt that split the southwest in two had been well worth the trip. Now they had come to New York, their last stop on their cross-country adventure.
“But it’s an amazing country!”
“I don’t know.” Ed shrugged. “America’s supposed to be this place that welcomes everybody, but they ought to say ‘everybody that looks like the people who first landed here’.”
“But everywhere has problems like that,” Al pointed out. “Back in Germany…”
“But this isn’t Germany.” It was the fact that all he’d heard was how America welcomed everybody, but what they really meant was that America welcomed anybody who spoke English, had the right color skin and didn’t try to get a job. People could be so stupid about things like that. If he didn’t have his automail, would he be looked down on and sneered at as a cripple?
“And we’re on holiday,” Al said, frowning slightly. “And there’s going to be people who don’t think the way they should everywhere we go. They’re ignorant, and it‘s sad, but it‘s how people are. Someday everybody will learn.”
Always the idealist, his brother. Ed just shook his head, wandering along the boardwalk of Coney Island. It had been Al’s idea to come, taking the subway for a day on the amusement filled resort that ran along the beach. It was impressive, Ed had to admit. The engineering that had to have gone into the rides piqued his interest. It was nothing like the fairs back in Germany. He felt a slight pang of nostalgia and regret, but shook it away. It was early fall and the sun was bright and the breeze was cool and Alphonse was beside him. It wasn’t a time to get caught up in bad memories.
Suddenly, Alphonse made a small noise. Ed looked over at his brother, puzzled.
“Ed! Look!” Al was whispering and pointing as discreetly and emphatically as he could. Ed followed his brother’s gaze and saw immediately what had caused the younger Elric to gasp. There was a large man in an undershirt and suspenders, eating an ice cream cone a few feet away from them. And he was covered in tattoos. Nearly every inch of skin that Ed could see was inked in some sort of design.
“Why would anybody want to do that?” Ed asked, aloud.
“What? Get a tattoo?”
“Not get a tattoo, cover themselves in tattoos.” Ed shuddered.
“I don’t know. He must like them though.” Al shrugged. “Isn’t it supposed to hurt?”
“People say it does, but I bet it doesn’t.” Ed really couldn’t imagine a tattoo being all that painful, especially after the pain he’d endured.
“Really?” Al raised his eyebrows as though he didn’t quite believe his brother.
“Yeah, really. It’s just a tattoo. Teacher had a tattoo, remember? I bet she didn’t think it hurt at all.”
“I never asked.” Alphonse pursed his lips. “I still think it would hurt. It’s done with a needle.”
“That’s no big deal.” They were walking again, ambling along at a comfortable pace as they debated whether or not having ink injected into one’s skin by a needle would be particularly painful.
“I still think it hurts,” Al said, with a tone of finality.
“Get one and find out then.” Ed responded, shaking his head with a grin.
“Me?” Al punched him lightly on the shoulder - the left shoulder - and returned the grin. “You’re the one who doesn’t think it hurts, you get one.”
“I wouldn’t know what to get.” It was clear they had descended into teasing now, and Ed turned and walked backwards for a few paces, smiling cheekily at his brother.
“And I would?” Al sped up to a trot, catching up with Ed who had moved ahead of him. “Besides, you’d look better with one anyway. You‘d look really good with one, actually.”
Al flushed slightly, and Ed did as well, and an awkward silence passed between them. There were so many of those these days. For weeks, they hadn’t touched at all. They’d slept in separate beds, strained away from one another, almost afraid to touch. And Ed had been afraid, some lurking fear gripping him whenever he thought of laying hands to his brother’s body. But it had faded and now they touched at every chance, most likely too much and in ways that most people frowned upon between siblings. But it wasn’t talked about, because there was really nothing to say. They got along fine and with only a few askance looks from anyone who was witness to their more-than-familial displays of affection.
It would be easier, of course, if Al didn’t flirt with him in public.
“You’re doing it again,” Ed reminded him, gently. Especially here in America, where everyone seemed to get up in arms over everything that wasn’t conventional. Americans had some serious issues, Ed had decided.
“Sorry.” Al ducked his head. “But it’s true.”
“Yeah, well, maybe it is. I’m still not getting a tattoo.” he looked over at Al, almost slyly. “Unless you get one, too.”
“I’d look ridiculous with a tattoo!” Al responded.
“Come on, we could get matching ones and everything.” The glint in Ed’s eyes said he was joking, and Al grinned widely and looped his arm through his brother’s, and Ed glanced around quickly to make sure no one was paying any attention to them.
“Oh yeah? Like what?” Al was teasing him back.
“Dunno.” Ed said. “Never thought about it before. It‘d have to be something neat, though.”
“And red,” Al said, suddenly serious. “On your shoulder. Back here.” Al reached up and pressed his palm against the flat plane of muscle beneath Ed’s shoulder blades.
“Hey, who’s getting this tattoo, me or you?” But Ed was still smiling.
“We both are,“ Al reminded him. How did these things happen? Always so quickly and with teasing and joking, and then the idea would be in Al’s head and he’d turn serious. He was still watching Ed, his smile holding less amusement now. “If you can figure out what you want. But I still think it‘ll hurt.” And then the grin was back, suddenly, all seriousness dropped.
It was nice. Al’s arm twined in his, holding him close as they continued along the boulevard, apparently looking for some sort of tattoo parlor since it seemed to have been decided they were actually getting them. At least he could prove to Al that it didn’t hurt at all, since he still couldn’t comprehend something as small as a needle hurting anywhere near to anything else either of them had felt.
Ed looked down suddenly, and the fall light was reflecting in Al’s eyes and his hair was the same color as the turning leaves - muted brown with hints of gold - and Ed wanted to kiss him, right then and there on the boardwalk. But then Al was pulling away, one hand grasping Ed’s and hauling him off in the direction of a small brightly colored building that offered tattoos, laughing loudly and clearly in the crisp fall.