|The Knight in Slightly Tarnished Armor (yuuo) wrote in chaotic_library,|
@ 2007-09-02 01:23:00
|Current music:||Poe - Fingertips|
[Edward Elric x Alfons Heiderich; NC-17] Fingertips
Character/Series: Edward Elric; Alfons Heiderich; Fullmetal Alchemist
Notes: Written for Post Your Fandom Porn Day
Music: Fingertips - Poe
Word Count: 616
Summary: Alfons was always fascinated by the feel of Edward's hands, of the two different sensations as his fingertips would slide across his body.
" It's in the way they move and,
They catch that simple groove and,
They tell a story all their own
About the human heart alone.
I try to get a grip, but
I find I always slip on fingertips,
Those fingertips, those fingertips."
Alfons was always fascinated by the feel of Edward's hands, of the two different sensations as his fingertips would slide across his body. Both hands explored, curious, hungry and hesitant and uncertain all at once.
Edward always was a bit gunshy of human touch.
His flesh hand was calloused and warm, rough and occasionally troubled by torn skin that scratched along Alfons's chest and belly. The false hand was smooth, barely room temperature, and such a shocking contrast to Edward's left hand that when one trailed after the other, Alfons's nerves would tangle up in a lovely, heated confusion that made his eyes cross behind closed lids.
He loved the feel of Edward's fingertips.
Edward always seemed ashamed of his right arm and hand, hiding it behind his shirt until the last minute, until desire overrode whatever silly notion in his crazy head made him feel so ashamed of it. Perhaps it was a bid odd- Alfons had certainly had trouble not staring when he'd first met the young man with a name nobody seemed to know -but it was so wonderfully fascinating and gentle and somehow so very Edward.
Strange and brilliant and beautiful for its flaws.
It suited Edward, it really did. It was amazing, the preciseness of his control over an arm that was not his own flesh, could be so gentle and careful with Alfons when his false hand would slide across a heated cock, ghosting down to tease against sensitive, tight skin. Edward's flesh fingers would trace patterns along his abdomen, tracing down along his hips while his other fingers slicked him carefully.
He'd keep his eyes locked on Alfons's the whole time. He never had to watch what the right hand was doing, could tell without looking as if it were his own muscles and nerves controlling the movements and not a sophisticated machine and Alfons couldn't help but marvel and wonder at what kind of mind must lurk behind those golden eyes that hypnotized and spoke of long-ago trials more than his scarred body could but never revealed any words.
That was Edward- incredible, mysterious, so close and sometimes still so very far away and Alfons craved more, more contact, more knowledge- to know and see what Edward hid, didn't tell him, wouldn't tell him. Alfons craved it, greedily hoarded whatever Edward gave him in those moments when they tangled together, bodies moving against each other in a rhythm that went beyond their thoughts, their reason. Moments when Edward's careful walls seemed thin and something raw and powerful and so full of passion- good and bad both wrapped up until there was no way to tell which way it went- crept into view as he kept his gaze locked on Alfons, eyes wide as if he were perpetually in wonder at their intimacy.
Edward would cling, hold on to Alfons for dear life when it was over, and the two laid there, catching their breath and hearts that had gotten all away from them, and Alfons would pet his hair, wonder what it was that made someone like Edward Elric seem so afraid, so afraid that Alfons would disappear as soon as reality would return to their senses past the sweat and the sex.
Alfons decided early on to try to put off telling Edward as long as he could that one day, he would disappear. That they both would, he could tell- Edward would find his way back to his mystical Shamballa and his lost and beloved brother, and Death would creep in and take Alfons on to whatever awaited him.
Until then, though, he would continue to lose himself in the feeling of Edward's beautiful, strange fingertips.