Faye (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
said_scarlett) wrote2006-12-24 11:08 am
said_scarlett) wrote2006-12-24 11:08 am
Advent Fic #...Whatever
Yeah, wasn't able to get them all done. But! I got one, so enjoy!
Title: Dreams On a Winter Night
Fandom: FMA
Pairing: Ed/Heirdich
Rating: PG-13
Written For:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
yuuo
Prompt: Silent Night
Spoilers: Full series and movie
Summary: Ed wished he didn't feel so numb, so guilty, so detached. He wished for a lot of things, and ignored reality...
There was far too much that Ed still didn’t understand. About this world, its technology, its traditions. He tried, but so much was so foreign and confusing that he found himself stumbling and struggling to keep up. Alfons helped, some. Alfons who grinned and laughed and shook his head when Ed spoke of home. Alfons who humored him, and Ed knew it was humoring but it didn’t matter. He’d show Alfons, someday, he’d find a way.
But for now, he was nowhere closer to his goals than he had been. Everything seemed like a dead end. The books and charts that were spread across the floor of his room may as well have been some foreign language for all the good they were doing him.
It was snowing out. Ed could smell dinner cooking in the other room. Alfons was fixing a big dinner - for Christmas Eve. The holiday meant nothing to Ed. He understood the origins and the purpose, but it still meant nothing. Very little in this world did.
“Ed?”
There was a knock at his door. Ed pushed himself up from where he was sprawled and brushed his hair out of his face.
“Yeah!”
“Dinner.”
Ed didn’t bother to clean up the books and papers. He’d do it later, when he was done with them. Maybe he’d even take dinner in his room. He did that, sometimes. He knew if he just looked over everything long enough, the answer would come to him.
“I’m just gonna make myself a plate…” Ed began and trailed off. Alfons had broken out the nice plates, and there were candles lit.
“Sit down,” Alfons said, waving at the set table. “You can’t eat in your room on Christmas Eve.”
Ed was tempted to reply with ‘why can’t I?’.
“I’m in the middle of research…”
“You can forget about the ‘other world’ stuff for one night. It’s Christmas Eve, Ed, and dinner’s ready and we can have a nice, normal evening.”
Ed knew what that meant. No talking about home. No stories, no mention of any of it. But if he couldn’t talk to Alfons, who could he talk to? And he needed to talk, to keep the memories fresh otherwise he’d forget them. And he couldn’t bear to forget one minute of it.
“Okay,” he said, pulling up a chair. “It smells good.”
“Thanks.”
Dinner was close to silent and almost awkward. Ed found he really didn’t have much to say at all. Alfons talked about rocketry, idle chatter that Ed had heard before. The food was good - thick and rich and filling. They finished quickly.
“I’ve got a bottle of wine…” Alfons suggested, as they cleaned up after dinner.
“Yeah. Yeah, wine sounds good.” They usually drank beer - cheap stuff, brewed down the street. But tonight was a special occasion and Ed didn’t care what they drank. He just needed something to dull the strange ache that was growing more and more pronounced. within him.
He stood at the window after Alfons had poured him a glass. Alfons was on the couch, tending to the meager fire that did its best to warm the small room. It was still snowing, the street below white and cold.
“Ed?”
“Yeah?” he glanced ovr his shoulder, meeting Alfons’ curious gaze.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” he shook his head and lifted his glass in a half toast.
“You’ve been out of sorts all night.”
It was strange. He hadn’t known Alfons all that long, and still the other boy could see through him. Sometimes it hurt. Sometimes just looking at Alfons hurt.
“Sometimes…” he began, frowning and looking back out the window. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is real. Like maybe I’m dreaming or…” Or dead. But he didn’t say that. “Like I’m going to wake up one day and none of this will have ever happened.”
Alfons didn’t respond, but Ed heard movement behind him. Alfons was behind him then, close enough for Ed to feel him.
“Of course this is real,” he said. “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. Sometimes I think I don’t know anything anymore.”
“You know what I think? I think you’ve been thinking too much.” Alfons sighed. “Have some more wine, relax.”
“I don’t need to relax, I need…” To go home. Ed ran a hand over his face. He didn’t belong here. And a part of him wanted to. He had Alfons, and a part of him was alright with that. A part of him was content with that - it wasn’t the same, it wasn’t what he really wanted, but it was close enough.
“Ed…”
“I know.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’m just… I guess I haven’t been sleeping enough.”
Alfons’ hand was on his shoulder. His good shoulder.
“There’s a lot of things you haven’t been doing enough. Sleeping, eating… I hardly ever see you….”
“Why’d you want to see me anyway?” Ed gave a little laugh. “I know you get pissed off at me half the time.”
“Yeah, but the other half of the time I really like you.”
Ed turned. Alfons was right there, smiling and close and touching him. Alfons who he lived with and worked with and sometimes thought was Alphonse… Ed kissed him. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the lonely ache inside of him, maybe it was guilt. But he kissed Alfons and Alfons kissed him back, at the window where the snow was falling. Alfons’ arms were around him, the wine glasses were set on the window ledge and Ed didn’t know what he was doing. Alfons tasted like wine, and his body was thin and almost frail. Thinner and frailer than Ed would have thought.
“Alfons…” Ed’s head was pressed back against the windowpane. It was cold and damp. Alfons was kissing his neck, hands on Ed’s back, pulling him close. It was warm and good and Ed wanted more. He clung to Alfons desperately, clumsily, an eighteen year old virgin who’d never so much as kissed and now couldn’t control himself.
He pushed the guilt away. He ignored the small voice that warned him that he was just using Alfons, that Alfons was a substitute for what Ed really wanted. Because maybe he was, but not here and now. Not with his lips pressed against the hollow of Ed’s throat and his hands twisted in Ed’s shirt. This wasn’t an imitation of anything. There was no guilt for here and now, no regrets, no thinking of anyone else.
When Alfons pulled away, Ed groaned. He sucked in a deep breath, pleading with his body and eyes for the other boy to keep kissing and touching him.
“Did you want to move to the bedroom?” Alfons asked, blond hair mussed and cheeks flushed.
“Okay.” Ed nodded and wiped his hair out his face, legs weak. Alfons took his hand and the glasses of wine and led the way to the bedroom.
If this was a dream, Ed decided, that would be alright.
Title: Dreams On a Winter Night
Fandom: FMA
Pairing: Ed/Heirdich
Rating: PG-13
Written For:
yuuoPrompt: Silent Night
Spoilers: Full series and movie
Summary: Ed wished he didn't feel so numb, so guilty, so detached. He wished for a lot of things, and ignored reality...
There was far too much that Ed still didn’t understand. About this world, its technology, its traditions. He tried, but so much was so foreign and confusing that he found himself stumbling and struggling to keep up. Alfons helped, some. Alfons who grinned and laughed and shook his head when Ed spoke of home. Alfons who humored him, and Ed knew it was humoring but it didn’t matter. He’d show Alfons, someday, he’d find a way.
But for now, he was nowhere closer to his goals than he had been. Everything seemed like a dead end. The books and charts that were spread across the floor of his room may as well have been some foreign language for all the good they were doing him.
It was snowing out. Ed could smell dinner cooking in the other room. Alfons was fixing a big dinner - for Christmas Eve. The holiday meant nothing to Ed. He understood the origins and the purpose, but it still meant nothing. Very little in this world did.
“Ed?”
There was a knock at his door. Ed pushed himself up from where he was sprawled and brushed his hair out of his face.
“Yeah!”
“Dinner.”
Ed didn’t bother to clean up the books and papers. He’d do it later, when he was done with them. Maybe he’d even take dinner in his room. He did that, sometimes. He knew if he just looked over everything long enough, the answer would come to him.
“I’m just gonna make myself a plate…” Ed began and trailed off. Alfons had broken out the nice plates, and there were candles lit.
“Sit down,” Alfons said, waving at the set table. “You can’t eat in your room on Christmas Eve.”
Ed was tempted to reply with ‘why can’t I?’.
“I’m in the middle of research…”
“You can forget about the ‘other world’ stuff for one night. It’s Christmas Eve, Ed, and dinner’s ready and we can have a nice, normal evening.”
Ed knew what that meant. No talking about home. No stories, no mention of any of it. But if he couldn’t talk to Alfons, who could he talk to? And he needed to talk, to keep the memories fresh otherwise he’d forget them. And he couldn’t bear to forget one minute of it.
“Okay,” he said, pulling up a chair. “It smells good.”
“Thanks.”
Dinner was close to silent and almost awkward. Ed found he really didn’t have much to say at all. Alfons talked about rocketry, idle chatter that Ed had heard before. The food was good - thick and rich and filling. They finished quickly.
“I’ve got a bottle of wine…” Alfons suggested, as they cleaned up after dinner.
“Yeah. Yeah, wine sounds good.” They usually drank beer - cheap stuff, brewed down the street. But tonight was a special occasion and Ed didn’t care what they drank. He just needed something to dull the strange ache that was growing more and more pronounced. within him.
He stood at the window after Alfons had poured him a glass. Alfons was on the couch, tending to the meager fire that did its best to warm the small room. It was still snowing, the street below white and cold.
“Ed?”
“Yeah?” he glanced ovr his shoulder, meeting Alfons’ curious gaze.
“What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” he shook his head and lifted his glass in a half toast.
“You’ve been out of sorts all night.”
It was strange. He hadn’t known Alfons all that long, and still the other boy could see through him. Sometimes it hurt. Sometimes just looking at Alfons hurt.
“Sometimes…” he began, frowning and looking back out the window. “Sometimes I feel like none of this is real. Like maybe I’m dreaming or…” Or dead. But he didn’t say that. “Like I’m going to wake up one day and none of this will have ever happened.”
Alfons didn’t respond, but Ed heard movement behind him. Alfons was behind him then, close enough for Ed to feel him.
“Of course this is real,” he said. “What else could it be?”
“I don’t know. I don’t know. Sometimes I think I don’t know anything anymore.”
“You know what I think? I think you’ve been thinking too much.” Alfons sighed. “Have some more wine, relax.”
“I don’t need to relax, I need…” To go home. Ed ran a hand over his face. He didn’t belong here. And a part of him wanted to. He had Alfons, and a part of him was alright with that. A part of him was content with that - it wasn’t the same, it wasn’t what he really wanted, but it was close enough.
“Ed…”
“I know.” He sighed. “Sorry. I’m just… I guess I haven’t been sleeping enough.”
Alfons’ hand was on his shoulder. His good shoulder.
“There’s a lot of things you haven’t been doing enough. Sleeping, eating… I hardly ever see you….”
“Why’d you want to see me anyway?” Ed gave a little laugh. “I know you get pissed off at me half the time.”
“Yeah, but the other half of the time I really like you.”
Ed turned. Alfons was right there, smiling and close and touching him. Alfons who he lived with and worked with and sometimes thought was Alphonse… Ed kissed him. He didn’t know why. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the lonely ache inside of him, maybe it was guilt. But he kissed Alfons and Alfons kissed him back, at the window where the snow was falling. Alfons’ arms were around him, the wine glasses were set on the window ledge and Ed didn’t know what he was doing. Alfons tasted like wine, and his body was thin and almost frail. Thinner and frailer than Ed would have thought.
“Alfons…” Ed’s head was pressed back against the windowpane. It was cold and damp. Alfons was kissing his neck, hands on Ed’s back, pulling him close. It was warm and good and Ed wanted more. He clung to Alfons desperately, clumsily, an eighteen year old virgin who’d never so much as kissed and now couldn’t control himself.
He pushed the guilt away. He ignored the small voice that warned him that he was just using Alfons, that Alfons was a substitute for what Ed really wanted. Because maybe he was, but not here and now. Not with his lips pressed against the hollow of Ed’s throat and his hands twisted in Ed’s shirt. This wasn’t an imitation of anything. There was no guilt for here and now, no regrets, no thinking of anyone else.
When Alfons pulled away, Ed groaned. He sucked in a deep breath, pleading with his body and eyes for the other boy to keep kissing and touching him.
“Did you want to move to the bedroom?” Alfons asked, blond hair mussed and cheeks flushed.
“Okay.” Ed nodded and wiped his hair out his face, legs weak. Alfons took his hand and the glasses of wine and led the way to the bedroom.
If this was a dream, Ed decided, that would be alright.
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*GLOMPS Fey!* Wonderful!
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