dear_mun | re: falling behind

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re: falling behind

This time, neither Winry nor Al can blame me for slacking off. S'all your fault and I'm not taking any of the blame. I got no problem with doing those tags 'cause some of them are kinda important.

No, I wasn't referring to those ones. [ cough. ] Though, I guess they're kinda—ahem—important too...

But I was talking 'bout the ones for the event 'cause you've really fallen behind on 'em. There's also that research to finish now the observatory's all patched up (don't look at me that way, how was I supposed to know she'd leave only to come back?). And don't forget 'bout building onto the house. 'Sgonna cost quite a bit of my allotted transmutations, y'know. Even with Al helping. And I'm sure Alfons'll wanna see alchemy, once he gets in...

If you're really that stumped, watch more of the damn movie again. 'Cept if you do that, you better have something strong to drink for me 'cause living through it once was enough. Seeing it all over again, each time... [ NOPE. ]

Anyway— 'fnot that, then do some meme crap or whatever. Just do something. Y'know I hate sitting 'round.

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[ his brows draw together, fingers lingering briefly against the curve of ed's ear before he draws back again, burying his hands in the hem of his vest. ]

Maybe. Don't.. get your hopes up, though, Ed. I think the best we can expect is that I might not get much worse. [ he offers a faint smile. ] .. That would be okay with me, though.

[ as Alfons' hand draws away, he instinctively jolts forward, only to freeze before getting too close. his gaze slides away, towards the ground, as his own hands are shoved deep into his pockets. ]

There's someone I know. She's a medic. I don't know how she does it, but she can cure people. [ because he's determined not to give up. not now when he knows. ] Hell, she can cure a hangover with a weird hand signal thing and a touch of her fingers. Maybe...

[ for a few seconds, he looks kind of torn, especially after ed's jolt forward. finally, though, he uncurls his fingers, shifting closer and lifting a hand to curl it in ed's sleeve. ]

.. I'm sure things will be fine, then. [ he can't, can't tell ed he doesn't believe in cures anymore, because the other man looks so-- desperate. ] We'll be okay.

[ a pause, blushing. ]

Um, even if it's.. that sort of place.

[ a golden gaze shifts to the fingers at his sleeve and he hesitates, but it's only a brief moment before he's sliding his hand out of his pocket to twist and grasp Alfons' hand. in memory of the brief weight he'd felt on his own hand before Alfons had sent him off. ]

Yeah, 'course we will. 'Course. And it's not so bad. I-I mean... [ clears his throat, feeling heat rising in his cheeks as well. ] You, uh, get kinda used to it. After a while.

[ he hesitantly twines their fingers together, glancing down at them as if he's still not sure it's okay for him to do so. ]

It's.. going to be weird getting used to it there. Back home, it wouldn't even be okay for me to.. do this much. And I wouldn't have, anyway.

[ there's a moment in which he has to swallow down the lump in his throat because this is a bit strange for him. strange because it feels so much like when he holds Al's hand and he really shouldn't be making comparisons at a time like this.

and then there's what Alfons says that has him jerking his head up to stare at his brother's alter. a simple touch. to him, if he were to ignore the familiarity that Alfons' hand is to Al's, would be something mundane. and though there's cloth covering his fingers, he can still feel the warmth and that had always been something he and his brother had sought. after all, what was so wrong about a simple touch?

but he has to remind himself that this isn't Al, and Munich was not Amestris, and they are not brothers. Noah was cast dark looks for having a different skin tone and brass bangles on her wrists. people in Munich were always more afraid of what was different. and he'd hated it for that. ]

You— Alfons... you wanted to?

[ he gives him a shaky smile, unlacing their fingers again, embarrassed. ]

I'm not-- I've never really noticed girls. Or-- men, or anyone, really. It's you. It was.. It was always you.

[ he hadn't dared so much as breathe his strangeness, not with his shaky standing. not when he'd just been a nobody. not with his ill health and with ed's desperation to get home.

he laughs, the sound rasping in his throat, and his fingers touch the skin there self-consciously. ]

Sorry, I guess I.. I should keep that kind of thing to myself.

[ his heart has stopped.

no, that's not right. he knows what it's like to feel the beat of his heart slow to a halt (they both do, don't they? they're both dead men but still alive) and it's not like this. but his breath is still caught in his chest because he's still processing Alfons' words.

it was always you.

god, he'd been so fucking blind, hadn't he? he's always so fucking, goddamn blind. first with Winry, then with his brother, and now Alfons...

as the realization sinks in, his first thought is if only i'd known, but it's quickly shoved aside because he should've realized on his own. Alfons shouldn't have to tell him. he should've figured it out on his own. he's supposed to be a genius, isn't he? then why had he been such a fucking idiot?

which leads to his second thought of why me? because it's hard for him to understand why anyone would come to love the wreck of a soul that is him. he'd only been a burden on Alfons, clinging to him because it was the only bit of familiarity he'd had in a world where he felt so adrift.

but he knows if he focuses too much on his thoughts, time will slip through his fingers again. he's always hesitating, his heart still so stunted, like his growth, when he should be an adult. ]

Shut up.

[ the words are spoken too harshly in his ears and he winces. to ensure Alfons cannot pull too away, he reaches out to catch Alfons' sleeve and tugs him closer. his eyes follow the line of Alfons' jaw and down his neck where pale fingers linger and his own free hand clenches reflexively. ]

Idiot, you don't need to keep things bottled up.

[ he wonders if his voice sounds as hoarse to Alfons as it does in his ears. ]

I never realized... [ the grip tightens again. ] I'm not— I mean, I don't— Fuck. What I'm trying to say is— Is it's alright. It is. It's alright.

[ why is he always so bad with words when he needs them most? ]

[ he breathes another laugh, barely audible, watching the play of emotions on ed's face, reaching up to cup it gently. he shouldn't touch him, but ed had said it's alright, and he has to believe he's allowed this much. ]

Who's the idiot. Dummy. [ he strokes his thumbs lightly over ed's cheekbones, the touches nearly reverent. it feels good to be honest, especially since he thinks maybe ed needs to hear it more often. ] You think you're so.. unlovable. And don't you know I didn't want you to realize?

[ ed had been his everything--still is. ed and his work had managed to get him through for months, had forced him to fight. because he couldn't let ed lose the one bit of familiarity he'd found in munich. .. at the same time, he couldn't ask him to stay, either. couldn't push stronger bonds, or ask for more. not when he'd known ed would be miserable if he'd lived the rest of his life there, never seeing his brother again.

he ducks his head the few inches between them, resting their brows together. ]

Don't be upset. I didn't tell you for you to be upset. And don't try to make yourself feel anything you don't, either, okay?

[ he brushes their noses together, then pulls back again, smiling faintly. ]

I'm happy if we can just be friends again. I just want you to be you.

[ the urge to sputter at the light jab is strong, darkening the color in his cheeks as his brows furrow, but ire is easily overridden by the surprise that forms in response to the gentle touch to his cheek. a touch that makes him suck in a short breath as his eyes widen. a touch that could be Al's for how careful and loving it is (and it is Al, but not Al because it's Alfons, dammit, he needs to stop letting that line between them blur). and he feels torn because it's an intimate touch he wouldn't normally allow from anyone but Al. is it betrayal if Alfons is Al, if only the Al of another world?

would it be betrayal if he considered Alfons his Al too? he wonders if he could, if maybe it would be alright, or if it's too greedy of him to want so much.

but Alfons is still talking and he can feel his breath on his skin, against his lips because they're so close. it's true, he does think he's unlovable. a rouge, a vagabond, a sinner and a traitor and twice, thrice damned. and yet, almost instinctively, his lips part when their noses brush and he nearly closes his eyes to lean in. because he nearly craves the touch. but the warmth of Alfons' forehead against his disappears and he's left blinking rapidly. ]

I— I don't know what I feel.

[ complete and open honesty. Alfons deserves as much and his gaze drops to the ground as his brows furrow again. switching his weight from one foot to another makes long bangs shift against flushed cheeks and he licks his lips. ]

Don't call me a dummy...

[ he huffs out a breath, fondly exasperated. ]

You are a dummy. Especially considering how brilliant you are.

[ alphonse had told him that.. ed had come back. he'd sent himself back through the gate again to munich. would've left his brother behind-- for duty? or because alfons had demanded too much from him, even though he'd tried so hard not to?

it's a moot point now, but that doesn't mean he wants the same thing to happen. he doesn't want to go to that place if it means it's going to make ed miserable. he doesn't want him to feel torn-- not over alfons. not for the short time they'd spent together. ]

Don't push yourself because you think it's what I want. It's not, okay? That's not.. that's not how love works. It doesn't-- have to be an equivalent exchange. I don't need you to love me in return for me to be happy.

[ he ducks down a little, peering up into ed's face, smiling again. ]

So stop looking like that, please?

[ a similar huffed breath is released from him and his shoulders hitch a bit higher in a defensive gesture towards the continued, gentle teasing. but they slowly lower again as Alfons continues, leaving him gaping slightly. having his own mantra, his maxim turned back at him and ripped apart so easily with a single word like love is more of a surprise than any antagonizing speeches he could've heard from that bitch, Dante.

how? how can Alfons be so willing, so sacrificial, so accepting of everything. of him when he certainly doesn't deserve it.

the fingers gripping Alfons' sleeve twist and tug, only to release. action is all he can do, all he's good at in times like this. so when his fingers fall away, he reaches out again to grip the elastic of a suspender and pull. strength uncommon for someone of his stature should pull the other boy closer and it's certainly not Al that he's thinking of right now. not at all. he's thinking only of Alfons, of lonely Alfons, and how confused his own emotions are. ]

Shut up. Just—

[ it takes a bit of a push up on his toes in order for him to reach, but soon enough his lips are aligned with Alfons'. dark lashes lower over gold and his intentions are very clear. ]

[ his breathing hiccups, startled by the pull, startled by the kiss-- his first, his very first, and it's near the end of his life with someone he loves more than anyone, more than anything, more than his nation or his work or his dreams, more than the small amount of dignity his illness has left him.

he knows he probably tastes of coffee from the morning, blood from his latest fit, but he can't bring himself to care right now. instead, his hands flutter up, hovering uncertainly for a moment before fisting in the shirt at ed's shoulders, pressed close and shaking, shaking, because please, god, don't let this be the last.

ed's sunlight and steel and determination, and he only parts from him when he knows if he lets himself linger any longer, he'll ruin it by not being able to breathe. he doesn't go far, though, gasping faintly, brow brushing ed's temple as he clutches at him. ]

.. Oh. [ it's a small, trembling sound. ]

Edited (spelling!!! o9) 2012-08-27 04:42 (UTC)

[ the taste of blood is far from foreign to him and when he finds it on his tongue, he eagerly accepts it, determined to demonstrate to Alfons that what he's doing is hardly frivolous and by no means uncertain. every bit the steely Fullmetal Alchemist who let no obstacle steer him from his goals. he's no good with words, so he lets his actions do the talking, even if kissing Alfons is nothing like he'd ever thought it would be (something he hadn't honestly thought about before now).

it's not like kissing Al or kissing Winry. there's no desperate passion and soul-deep understanding like when he kisses his brother. there's no feeling of home and grounding like when he kisses Winry. Alfons' lips are a bit chapped from continuous passing of palm and the way Alfons' fingers tremble at his shoulders reminds him of how tenuous and fragile life really is. and when they finally part (too soon, but not soon enough), his own hands rise and clutch just a bit tighter. two uneven pillars leaning against each other for support.

his mouth is dry, he realizes, making it hard for him to swallow around the lump in his throat. it's not love, he knows that much. but he's bound to Alfons in a way he can't quite label, a string of fate that could unravel again as it had before, and he doesn't want that to happen anymore. he doesn't want to lose anymore of his anchors.

licking his lip and feeling a flutter in his chest, he manages a slight nod. ]

I can't... I can't promise you anything. I'm a liar, Alfons. I break damn near everything I touch. And I don't know what's gonna happen in the future. But there's one thing I do know.

[ fabric creases and wrinkles under his grip as it tightens, creaking with a rustle of cloth. ]

I don't wanna lose you again.

It's okay. [ it's still breathless, shaky, but he brushes a knuckle soothingly along the line of ed's jaw. ] It's okay, I'm not asking for promises or anything at all.

[ and they both know alfons will be gone again eventually, but there's no reason to say it. there's no need to bring attention to it when they can pretend for a little while that alfons will be here as a part of ed's foundation for as long as he's needed.

he touches fingers to his lips, smiling a little against them, giddy and embarrassed and happier than he can remember being in months. he's dead and he didn't do anything important with his life at all and maybe ed is the only person in the world who will remember him in a few years, but at least he has the last five minutes. not even death can take that from him.

still-- ed is so.. ridiculous. he turns his head to cough into his palm, grateful not to feel dampness against his skin, not to taste copper (thank you, thank you, just not now), and his other hand flicks ed gently in the brow. when the spell passes, he takes a breath, turning back to roll his eyes slightly. ]

You're not nearly as awful as you make yourself out to be. Do you really think so many people would care about you if you were?

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re: falling behind

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look what you made me do. i spilled my teal paint all over the deer in this post.

my heart. why do their conversations end in my tears 8'(

because fma is more like fml

gdit it really is

right???

Re: right???

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