Current mood:	productive
Current music:	No Doubt - Just a Girl
Entry tags:	alfons heiderich, alternate timeline, edward elric, fma, fma: alternate anime timeline, fma: alternate timeline, fma: anime, fma: movie, heid x ed, multi-parter, nc-17, post-series, short story, yuuo, yuuo: fma

[Edward Elric, Alfons Heiderich; NC-17] Failed Attempts To Fly 1/2
Character/Series: Edward Elric, Alfons Heiderich; AU to the movie.
Rating: NC-17
Notes: Please don't blame me if you go through a box of tissue reading this.
Title: Failed Attempts To Fly
Author: yuuo
Word Count: 10,174
Summary: Edward jumped, spilling some of the valuable rocket fuel down the front of his shirt.




He said: "I was in my early forties,
With a lot of life before me,
And a moment came that stopped me on a dime.
I spent most of the next days,
Looking at the x-rays,
And talking 'bout the options,
And talking 'bout sweet time."
I asked him when it sank in,
That this might really be the real end?
How's it hit you when you get that kind of news?
-Tim McGraw

"Edward!"

Edward jumped, spilling some of the valuable rocket fuel down the front of his shirt. He gave Alfons a sour look over his shoulder and handed over the flask. "Here, you make more. I have to get cleaned up now."

Alfons sighed as he took the beaker, scowling at Edward. "Why aren't you wearing a filter mask?" he demanded from behind his own mask.

Edward was more focused on the fuel down his shirt than pulling up his mask. "I have my goggles on," he protested, grabbing a towel and trying to sop up the worst of the spill.

"That won't protect you from the fumes, you idiot," Alfons snapped, setting the flask down on the table Edward had been working at. "Those fumes are toxic, you could get yourself killed."

"I can also tell that something's wrong with the formula that way," Edward protested, tossing aside the towel. "It's too sweet. I know this formula's your baby, but you screwed up somewhere."

Alfons stared at the flask. "You're sure?"

Edward nodded, taking off the goggles and the forgotten filter mask and setting them down on the table. "I'm sure. That's why the rocket's been blowing up halfway up. We want ignition, not explosion. Try reworking it. I'm going home to change."

With a briefly concerned look in Edward's direction, then a look of consternation at the flask, Alfons waved him off. "I'll see you when I get home," he said vaguely.

Wandering home, Edward could still smell the awful fuel, and he resisted the urge to wrinkle up his nose at the stench. God, that was bitterly sweet, almost like death itself. "Goddamnit," he muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs to his apartment. "I probably won't be able to clean this up."

Well, any way it went, he also needed a shower to get the smell off of him, and a shower sounded good about then. They'd have to start from scratch on that stupid fuel and that was a sore point of stress on both of them. A shower would work out some of the tension, and later, when Alfons came home, he could pounce him and work out the rest.

Edward was just reattaching his false arm when the front door opened, and Alfons's voice reached him, greeting him. "I'm in the bedroom!" he called, snapping the arm into place and then carefully hooking up the straps around his chest.

"Are you dressed?" Alfons asked, still out in the hallway.

"No, why?" Edward desperately hoped Alfons hadn't brought home a sponsor or a teammate. He had plans that wouldn't mesh well with having guests.

Alfons appeared in the doorway, tossing a notebook down on the ground. "Good." He shrugged out of his suspenders and sat down on the bed next to Edward. Then the bastard smacked Edward on the back of the head. "That's for not wearing your filter mask today," Alfons grumped at him. "Now put those hands of yours to use and massage my shoulders. You dropped a headache on my lap today."

Edward scooted back on the bed and slid over behind Alfons as Alfons took off his shirt. Edward crossed his legs and started rubbing his boyfriend's shoulders. "I could be rubbing something else, you know," he pointed out, a bit grumbly that he wasn't already.

"That comes next," Alfons said, leaning back against Edward's hands. "Shoulders first."

"What am I, your little housewife?" Edward demanded. "Should I rub your feet next?"

Alfons glanced back at him, making a show of considering that. Edward slugged him on the arm, then went back to massaging his shoulders. "Don't even think it," he said. That made his boyfriend laugh, then he groaned when Edward found a knot in his muscles. "Jesus, Alfons, what were you doing while I was working on that fuel?"

Alfons winced. "Carrying heavy engine components, what else?"

Edward paused in what he was doing to get up onto his knees and get a bit more leverage for working the knot out. "Next time, leave that to Rolf," he said.

Another wince as Edward had to grind his fist particularly hard into the knot, and then Alfons looked up at him. "He probably gets muscle knots too, Edward, and I don't think he has anyone to massage them out for him. Ow, Jesus, Edward, not so hard!"

Edward got a wicked smirk. "That's not what you were saying last night." He caught the corner of Alfons's mouth with his own before returning to what he was doing. "Stop squirming, I've almost got it."

"I'd be a lot more cooperative if I didn't feel your dick pressed against my back," Alfons protested, biting his lip hard as Edward dug into the last of the knot.

"Just be glad it's not more distracting right now," Edward said with a laugh. After another minute, he sat back down. "There. That should be the worst of it, anyway." He wrapped his arms around Alfons's shoulders when the younger man leaned back against him.

"Mm. You smell nice," Alfons said, closing his eyes and turning his head on Edward's shoulder to face him.

"I did just take a shower," Edward pointed out, then kissed Alfons gently. "And there are better positions for you to be in. Come on, out of those pants before I rip them off."

Alfons gave him a grumpy look before sitting up and fussing with his pants. "Impatient brat," he muttered. He stood and shimmied out of his pants, then took a spot up at the head of the bed and crossed his legs, facing Edward. "Okay, now what? Or did you think this through at all?"

With a look better suited for a cat with cream on its whiskers, Edward leaned forward and wrapped his flesh hand around Alfons's cock, stroking it gently to full erection. "No, I thought it through. I figured we'd skip the foreplay, but you weren't ready for me."

Alfons closed his eyes and leaned back, his hips trying to twitch up into Edward's hand. "You assaulted me, that's why," he said through unsteady breaths.

Satisfied that his boyfriend was ready, Edward let go of Alfons's cock. "Hand me a condom, would you?"

Blindly, Alfons groped around in the nightstand drawer for a condom and finally produced one from the drawer's depths. Edward snatched it away quickly and opened it, tossing aside the wrapper as he rolled the latex onto his erection, resisting the urge to just start whacking off.

Need screamed along his nerves as he uncrossed Alfons's legs with Alfons's help, and settled down between them, kissing Alfons hungrily. Alfons returned the kiss with just as much want, the contact sending pleasant shocks down his spine. The kiss turned to more tooth than tongue as each fought for control.

Alfons lifted his hips against Edward's, rubbing against him teasingly. Edward whimpered, nipping Alfons's lower lip hard. "Tease," he accused, returning to the kiss between gasps for air.

Alfons smiled against the kiss. "Only if I don't follow through," he said between nips and bites and tongue.

Edward pulled back and stuck out his tongue. "I'm the one following through, you're just going to lay there and let me," he said. Alfons laughed, catching his mouth in another hungry kiss, Edward going still as electricity danced along his nerves. He moaned into the kiss, grinding his hips down against Alfons's, and turning the kiss into tiny nips and bites along his boyfriend's jaw. Alfons hissed slightly as Edward nibbled on his ear lobe, nuzzling Edward's neck.

"What're you waiting for?" Alfons demanded, pressing his hips up against Edward's teasing grinding. He ran stubby fingernails along Edward's sensitive back, tracing over his spine. "Stop teasing us both already."

Edward snorted, then lifted his head to capture Alfons's mouth again for a brief moment. "And you called me impatient." He propped himself up on one elbow, nerves dancing in anticipation as he lined himself up and pressed into Alfons, slowly, carefully, waiting on Alfons to tell him to go ahead.

After a moment, Alfons nodded, trembling a little as Edward began to slowly thrust into him. Edward shuddered at the warm, tight feeling, the delicious friction on his cock, the feel of Alfons hard against his belly. He pushed himself up on his hands, watching the beautiful expressions on Alfons's face as they fucked, slow and warm and sensuous.

The noises Alfons was making turned from quiet moans into a high pitched squeaking noise, and Edward increased the intensity of his thrusts, hitting the sensitive spot inside of Alfons, making the squeaking get a bit higher. Edward almost wanted to laugh; he didn't think Alfons could make that high pitched of a noise.

His own breath was ragged, vocalizing Alfons's name while Alfons began whispering various blasphemies as nerves began to strain to the breaking point. Lightning and fire warred low in his groin as he sped up, straining to reach the top and that goddamn delicious fall afterwards. There was a tightening sensation in his balls, giving him a three second warning as his climax slammed into him hard and every synapse exploded into white heat.

Alfons whimpered, straining against Edward's sudden stillness. "Edward, god, please don't stop." Edward resumed thrusting, shuddering hard at the continued overstimulation, but not willing to stop again until Alfons had gotten off. Mercifully, Alfons hadn't been far behind him, who muffled a cry by biting his lip as he came. Finally, Edward went still, then pulled out, disposing of the condom before rolling over and curling up against Alfons.

Alfons wrapped an arm around Edward's shoulders. "You just got cleaned up and now you're filthy again," he said, teasing a bit. "You didn't think that plan through very well."

Edward grinned, lifting his head. "Yeah, but it was worth it." He reached up and kissed Alfons, lingering over his lips, running his tongue over his lower lip, savoring the taste of him.

That elicited a sound that closely resembled a purr from Alfons, who smiled against the kiss. "Mm. I love you, Edward."

Edward's smile in response lit up his whole face. "Love you too. Come on, we gotta clean up, and I want dinner."

"Thinking with your stomach again, I see," Alfons teased. "All right, all right, I suppose I can find something to cook."

Edward climbed over Alfons to get off the bed. "More potatoes and sauerkraut?" he asked with a grimace.

Alfons laughed. "Do we have anything else? We do have a little bratwurst, I think I can put together something with that."

"I can't believe this," Alfons grumbled.

Edward looked away from their test rocket to look at him. "What?"

"That second formula you helped me with is working better than my original one." Alfons looked a bit put out that his own genius wasn't enough. Edward laughed at him, which devolved into a coughing fit. Alfons looked at him. "Still have that cold?" he asked.

Edward managed a nod through his coughing fit. "Damn thing's been hanging on the last two weeks, you'd think it would be over by now," he griped. Alfons patted his shoulder, then turned his attention back to the rocket on its test burn. In the back of his throat, Edward felt something slimy and warm caught and he coughed again, this time hacking up some of the gunk that had been infecting his lungs like an unwelcome guest.

He made a face as he opened his hand to survey the damage, and promptly froze, staring in horror at a spattering of blood. Closing his hand quickly, he looked at Alfons, not about to share this news and worry his boyfriend.

"I'm going to head home," he croaked as the rocket burn died off. "See if I can't kick this cough."

Alfons gave him an unworried smile. "All right. Stay out of trouble."

Edward gave him a weak smile that he prayed hid his nervousness as he headed for the exit. He took off his glove and wiped off his hand with the clean part and ditched it in the trash on his way.

The first place he went to was his father's home. It was a house, nicer than anything Edward and Alfons could hope to live in short of just moving in with his father, which was out of the question unless absolutely necessary. A university professor who was also a British spy probably made significantly more than a tiny group of rocket scientists with few sponsors.

He knocked roughly on the door, hoping his father was home. He almost gave up and went to the university to find him when the door opened. "Edward, what're you doing here?" his father said, blinking at him from behind those ridiculous glasses.

"Can I come in?" Edward said sullenly, not really wanting to be there, but unsure where else to turn. Coughing up blood wasn't exactly a small thing he could just shrug off. This world had new diseases he had no immunity to; he'd spent the first month or so of his time there utterly sick with just about everything. The threat of tuberculosis scared him stupid, and that was the first suspect.

"Of course. You know I always welcome your visits," Hohenheim said, letting Edward in.

"You won't welcome this one," Edward said, stepping in as Hohenheim closed the door behind him.

Hohenheim blinked. "Bad news?"

"Something like that. I think I'm sick with something." Edward gave his father a challenging stare, daring him to say something smart.

Hohenheim gave him a solemn look. "How sick?"

Edward ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. I was coughing up blood earlier."

That actually got a reaction out of the normally passive old man. "Oh dear. You should go to a doctor, Edward. I suppose I don't need to tell you that's a sign of-"

"TB, I know," Edward said a bit irritably. "How am I supposed to go to the doctor? I don't have money."

Hohenheim raised an eyebrow. "Thus, why you came to me."

Edward shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I don't like asking, you know that," he said, hiding the rest of the reason. He'd wanted the comfort of a parent, and all he'd found was the pragmatic reasoning of a scientist. He supposed his father had shown concern, but it was frustrating, trying to get emotion out of him. If it had been Edward's mother, she would've hugged him and told him it'd be all right, but get to a doctor anyway.

Maybe he never really outgrew needing a parent.

"I know you don't, but I like helping when you let me, Edward," his father said as he stepped into the other room. Edward followed, feeling a little mollified about his father's previous attitude. He already knew his father loved him, but sometimes the old man had a frustrating way of showing it.

Edward stuck his hands in his pockets while his father dug around in his wallet, pulling out several very large bills. "I think this should be enough for the university doctor," Hohenheim said, handing over the money.

Edward took it, staring at his father. "The university doc? That's pretty high end, Dad."

Hohenheim put his hand on the back of Edward's head. "I want to see you get better. That means the best doctor I can think of. You've got family waiting for you back home, and a boyfriend to introduce to them."

Edward flushed a little. "So you know about that, huh?"

Dropping his hand, Hohenheim smiled. "You act exactly the way I did when I met your mother. It's subtle, but I knew what to look for. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, and you're not acting out of sorts so nobody will guess. You're safe."

Looking down at his feet, Edward tried to hide his immense relief. "Thanks, Dad. I'll... I'd better go, if I'm going to catch the doc today."

"Let me know how it turns out, and if you need more money for tests," his father said.

Edward nodded. "I will." He turned and hurried out, heading for the university.

He caught the doctor just in time. "I'm sorry, young man, I'm about to close up for the day," Doctor Freidman said.

Taking a second to cough as his lungs rebelled, Edward looked up at the doctor. "Please, just one last patient. I have the money."

Freidman sighed. "It's not about the money. You can make an appointment with my receptionist for tomorrow. I'll be here."

The morbid part of Edward thought that he might not be, but that was stupid. "Please, as a favor to Professor Hohenheim?" he begged.

That pulled Freidman up short. "Professor Hohenheim? He sent you?"

"I'm his son," Edward said, gripping the money tightly in his pocket, feeling terrible for having to throw his father's name around. But whatever would get him in and his fears reassured that this was not something deadly. Maybe it was just a terrible case of bronchitis or something. But he wouldn't know until the doctor saw him, and the waiting would kill him faster than whatever he had.

Freidman sighed. "All right, come on in. Let's see what's wrong with you." Edward sighed in relief, following the doctor into the office. "So, what seems to be the matter?" the doctor asked after instructing Edward to take a seat.

Edward hopped up onto the exam table. "I've had a cough the last two weeks," he said. "And today, I finally coughed up some crap. Problem was, it was blood."

The doctor paused and looked at him ."Blood. You're sure it was blood and not bloodied sputum? If you've had a nose bleed lately, that can happen."

Edward shook his head. "It was blood. I've bled enough times to recognize it."

"Troublemaker as a child?" the doctor asked with an amused smile that didn't entirely hide the concern on his face.

Edward shrugged. "Got into an accident in Dad's lab. My right arm and left leg are prosthetics."

Freidman raised an eyebrow. "You move remarkably well for having false limbs."

"My dad made them for me," Edward said a little evasively. "They function as a regular arm and leg, for the most part. They're a little slower to respond than I'd like, but beggars can't be choosers."

"Astounding. Well, I suppose your father is considered an erratic genius, leave it to him to come up with something like this and not share with the world." Freidman shook his head, then ordered Edward out of his shirt.

Edward complied, exposing the old scars and the straps of his prosthetic for the doctor to see. After taking a moment to examine the port and strap, the doctor got down to work, listening to Edward's heart and lungs. "Hm. Your lungs sound wet, like I'd expect for coughing up blood. I want to take an x-ray, and a few blood tests. Have you been exposed to anything toxic lately?"

Uh-oh. Edward looked down at his feet. "Some rocket fuel formula. I was trying to tell what was wrong with it by the smell."

Freidman gave him a foul look. "That kind of thing would get you killed, if it isn't already. Come on, let's get those tests done."



Breakfast was interrupted by a phone call. Edward nearly upended his chair to get to it first. "I got it," he assured Alfons, who watched him curiously, but went back to eating as Edward picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"Edward? This is Doctor Freidman at the university."

Edward took the phone around the corner, stretching the cord to its limit. "Yes? Any results?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"You're not sick, not by any germ or virus. If you were, your immune system is completely ignoring it, which I find hard to believe. It's not tuberculosis. I'm not finding the cavities in your lungs that you'd see with that, and again, your immune system is not reacting," the doctor said.

Edward sighed in relief. "Well, that's good. What is it, then?"

"It's that fuel you inhaled," Freidman said. "There's signs of damage to the lungs, corrosion damage. And there's no way to reverse it."

Edward frowned, avoiding thinking about the worst. "So, okay, damage is done, what do I have to do to stop it, besides not sniff more chemicals?"

"There is no way of stopping it, Edward," Freidman said. "It's going to progress until it kills you. I'd say, two, three years' time."

The bottom dropped out of Edward's stomach as his brain tried to process that. "What?"

"You're dying, Edward, and I can't do anything to stop it," the doctor said. "I'm sorry. I can come up with some medicines to deal with the symptoms, but the progression of corrosion is out of my hands."

Edward felt like he was running on automatic all of a sudden. "How soon can you get the medicine?" he asked.

"Tomorrow. I hate to say this, but it won't be cheap." Freidman sounded genuinely sympathetic.

"That's fine," Edward said, his voice hollow. "I'll be by to pick it up. Thanks, Doc." He stayed where he was, leaning against the wall, barely gripping the phone as he tried to come to terms with the news. There had to be some sort of mistake. He'd already died once, and here he was, alive again. But that had been so sudden, this was something more insidious, creeping in and slowly stealing his breath like a childhood demon.

"Edward?"

Alfons's voice snapped him out of his shock, and he jumped, composing himself and stepping around the corner and right into Alfons. "What?" he snapped irritably, pushing by his boyfriend enough to hang up the phone.

Alfons frowned. "Edward, what was that about?"

"Just the doctor," Edward said, trying and failing to be evasive as he tried to sidestep his boyfriend to get back to his breakfast.

"You went to see the doctor?" Alfons stared at him. "You never see the doctor for anything. What's really going on?"

"It's just bronchitis," Edward said. "I thought I'd hit up my old man for some money to see a doctor about it so I can just get better and get back to work."

That seemed to pacify Alfons a bit. "All right," he said dubiously, but went back to his meal.

After a few minutes of eating in silence, Edward started poking at his eggs. "I'm going to stay home a couple days," he said. "It's bad enough you might catch it from me, but I don't need to spread it to the others, too. I'm picking up some medicines tomorrow, and don't worry, I'll hit up my old man for those, too. They said the medicines would be expensive."

"As long as they help," Alfons said. "Are you not hungry? I wouldn't blame you if you're not."

Edward looked up from his poking. "Hm? No, it's fine, I'm just. I never handled being sick very well. I get bored." He damn near stabbed the plate in his frustration. This lie would only work for so long before he had to confess what was really going on, admitting to what was happening and the fact that he lied.

He almost changed his mind and told Alfons everything then and there, but he was too scared to, if he were honest with himself. Telling someone meant admitting it was true. He wasn't ready to do that yet.

Alfons smiled with a sigh. "And god help us all when you get bored. Just don't try to cook. I'll come back and make you something."

"Naw, I think I'll just go over to Dad's place for the day. Make him sick." He flashed his boyfriend an ornery grin.

Alfons gave him a derisive look. "You're a terrible man, Edward. Remind me again why I love you."

"Because I'm that damn good-looking?" Edward answered with a shrug.

"Egoist," Alfons accused. "And before you say it, yes, I already knew that, I was just restating a fact." He got up. "I have to get going. Are you sure you're going to be okay?"

Edward nodded. "I'll be fine. Like I said, I'll just go over to Dad's place."

After breakfast dishes were taken care of, Alfons kissed Edward goodbye and once again warned him against cooking or getting into trouble in general. Edward gave him fifteen minutes to comfortably get to work before he grabbed his coat and headed to his father's.

The whole way there, he wondered what exactly he was going to say. He was hesitant to repeat the doctor's words, but how much more succinctly could he say it? He didn't want to say it, didn't want to admit it, didn't want to make it a reality.

But two people in this world deserved the truth, and he'd already lied to one of them. He may as well be honest with the one that had paid for him to go to the doctor in the first place.

He knocked on the door, at once hoping and dreading that his father was home. After a moment, his father answered the door, dressed to go to work. "Edward? What is it? What did the doctor say?"

Edward felt old as he looked up at his father. "You're going to want to be sitting down for this," he said quietly. "I'll understand if you'd rather go to work."

Hohenheim put a hand on Edward's shoulder. "My children come first. Come inside." He stepped aside, letting Edward in and closing the door behind him. He settled himself on a chair across from the couch. "All right, what'd the doctor have to say?"

Edward sank down onto the couch, looking down at the ground. "It's... I inhaled some of the fumes form the fuel formula," he said quietly, not confessing that he'd done it on purpose. "There's corrosion damage."

"Oh, Edward. I've told you about that line of work," his father said, scolding lightly. "How bad is it?"

Refusing to look up, Edward tried to make his mouth work. "I'm dying." Saying the words made them real and he swallowed tightly, struggling against tears.

Hohenheim was silent and Edward chanced a glance up at him. His father was looking at him with a distant look before he slipped his fingers under his glasses and wiped at them. "I see. How long?"

Taking a couple unsteady breaths, Edward looked away again. "The doc said another two, three years."

Hohenheim sighed. "I'd hoped I'd never go through this again," he murmured. "Well, no help for it now. Have you told Alfons yet?"

Edward shook his head. "I told him I had a case of bronchitis, that's why I've been coughing the last couple weeks. I have some medicines I have to pick up tomorrow. I hate to ask again, but they're expensive."

"That's fine, Edward, I'll gladly pay for them." Without warning, his father knelt in front of him and pulled him into a tight hug. It felt like his world went topsy-turvy; he couldn't remember his father hugging him since he was maybe four years old.

"Dad?" Hohenheim pulled back, giving his son a watery look. "God, are you crying?" He was certain he'd never seen his father cry.

His father sniffed, taking off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "My son is dying, that is cause for tears," he said. "I'll help however I can, Edward. I'll pay for these medicines if they'll help."

Edward felt uncomfortable. "They just help with symptoms, not the progression," he said. "I can go without them."

"And you'll not be able to work on getting home to your brother in time if you ignore the symptoms," Hohenheim pointed out. "Let me get you the medicines. When are they going to be available?"

"Tomorrow," Edward said, his voice feeling empty, devoid of emotion.

"I'll pick them up for you," his father said. "I shouldn't have to say that you should tell Alfons soon."

"Yeah, I know. Hey." He finally looked up at the man. "If I don't make it home in time and he's trapped here with you, you'll look after him, right? He doesn't have anyone else." Which was why he wasn't willing to tell him just yet; he wanted Alfons to have the illusion that they'd be together for a long time to come for just a little while longer.

Hohenheim smiled faintly. "I will, Edward. I give you my word." The older man studied Edward for a moment. "Did you want to stay here today? I can call in."

Edward gave him a helpless look. "If it's not too much trouble? If you need to go in, I can go back to my place."

Hohenheim shook his head. "I'll call in. My son needs me. My sons have always come first."

Edward smiled faintly. "Thanks, Dad."



Edward didn't let himself stay away from work for long; he wanted to return the next day after picking up his medicines, but Alfons wouldn't let him, threatened to tie him to the bed if he didn't rest himself. He gave in for about three days, then bullied his way back to work, determined to get home now more than ever, and quickly. He didn't want to die in this world, without seeing Al again.

Alfons reluctantly let him get away with working, despite still coughing, but the medicines kicked in within a few days and the cough subsided for the most part.

"You seem like you're finally getting better," Alfons said quietly, pressed up against Edward's back as they lay in bed.

Dying sunlight filtered through their curtains as the thin material fluttered in the early night breeze. Edward stretched languidly in the red light, then curled back against Alfons tighter. "Mm," he said noncommittally, neither confirming nor denying that statement.

Alfons's lips brushed the shell of Edward's ear. "Are you tired?"

Edward smiled, knowing where this was heading. They'd been in a forced celibacy since Edward took 'sick', in large part thanks to too much concern on Alfons's side. "Not that tired," he said, turning slightly to look at his boyfriend. "You had plans?"

"Mm." Alfons leaned over and captured his lips softly, bare touches of flesh against flesh, darting his tongue out to run against Edward's lips. Edward purred quietly in the back of his throat, returning the kisses when allowed by Alfons's tongue. "I love you, Edward," he whispered.

Edward smiled, returning a kiss before nuzzling his boyfriend's cheek. "Love you too." Alfons nuzzled him back, pressing against him, his erection pressing up against Edward's back. Edward moaned quietly. "Do you want a condom?"

Alfons kissed him again, his hand sliding along Edward's hip. "I want to focus on you, first," he said. "We'll get to that. Have some patience."

"Hmph, patience, you say. You're the one with your cock riding up my ass." He made a pleased noise low in his throat though, as Alfons ran stubby nails along the crook of Edward's hip and leg.

Alfons grabbed Edward's cock and held tight, just shy of being too tight. "It is not either," he grumbled, before letting go and running a gentle finger along the underside, tracing the vein there.

Edward sighed softly at the contact, shuddering slightly and pressing back against Alfons invitingly. Alfons continued to tease at Edward's cock, dancing fingers over sensitive nerves and foreskin. Edward began to breathe raggedly, rasping out Alfons's name. "Stop teasing me," he whispered.

Alfons hummed, kissing the corner of Edward's mouth. "You want me to stop teasing you?" he asked, rubbing the bundle of nerves just under the head of Edward's cock. Edward choked on a moan, then nodded, squeezing his eyes shut.

He felt a blast of cooling air on his skin as Alfons shoved back the covers, pushing Edward onto his back. He whimpered as Alfons positioned himself between Edward's knees and ducked his head, taking Edward's cock into his mouth. Edward grabbed the bed sheets beneath him, whining low. Sparks erupted behind his eyelids, and molten fire pool low in his groin.

Alfons took Edward in as far as he could, using his hand to stimulate the base of Edward's cock, sucking and teasing along nerves that were now sparking and pulling too tight. Edward began to pant raggedly, breathing becoming laborious, his lungs tightening up and constricting. Air became a precious commodity, and before his too-tight nerves could reach that height to snap, a wracking cough caught his damaged lungs and pulled him down.

He barely noticed Alfons crawling back up to his side at an alarming speed as he curled up on his side again and hacked. His whole chest felt on fire, burned and ached.

"Edward, are you okay?" Alfons demanded, nearly panicked. Edward took a stuttering breath, nodded, then continued to cough until he was forced to sit up. Behind him, Alfons put his hands on Edward's shoulders. "Edward, this isn't bronchitis, it's lasted too long."

Shaking his head, Edward coughed again, then finally hacked up the blood that had been bothering his lungs. "Bronchitis can last months if the medicines can't kick the infection," he argued. Then he sighed. "But no, this isn't bronchitis."

Alfons moved to sit beside him. "What's going on, Edward?" Not looking at his boyfriend, Edward flipped on the bedside lamp and showed Alfons his bloodied hand. "Edward, Jesus, this is blood!"

"Yeah, I know," Edward said, using his clean hand to wipe his mouth. "My lungs are rotting. It was that chemical formula I inhaled." He struggled to breathe, this time because of forming tears of fear. "I know, I'm an idiot."

After a long moment of silence, Edward chanced a look over at his boyfriend. Alfons was staring at him, horrified. Finally, Alfons smacked him upside the head. "You idiot!" he shouted, then pulled Edward into a tight embrace. "You stupid idiot," he whispered this time. Edward leaned against him, closing his eyes. "How bad's the damage?"

"I'm dying," he confessed, breathing a bit unsteadily. "I have two, three years max."

Alfons opened his eyes, once again starring in horror at Edward, then teared up, looking away. "I see. Oh, Edward, no," he moaned, holding Edward tighter.

Edward bowed his head. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean- I'm sorry." He took a deep, shaky breath. "On the other hand, if I get back to my world before then, theoretically a red stone can heal me."

Alfons looked back at him. "Then we'll get you home," he said firmly.

"I thought you didn't believe in my world," Edward accused slightly, looking at him.

"I didn't," Alfons admitted. "But if that's your only hope, then I'll believe in God, if you asked me to."

"God doesn't exist, though," Edward argued. "My world does."

Alfons sighed. "Not the point, Edward. Stop being pedantic."

Edward almost pointed out that he wasn't being pedantic, he was being correct, but decided to let it go. He didn't want to argue, not now. "I should go wash my hands," he said, then pulled out of Alfons's grip and headed to the bathroom, leaving behind a stunned boyfriend.

He turned on the tap in the bathroom, waiting for it to heat up, staring at the water dully. It was out, his dirty little secret. He was dying. And telling his father and now Alfons made it real. He made a dive for the toilet and threw up, vomiting up his meager dinner as the reality crashed in on him. He was going to die. Well, yes, eventually, everyone did, but his time was short and he was only eighteen. He might never see his brother again. He was going to die in a horrible and painful way, drowning in his own blood.

The tap water still running covered up the sound of his crying. He was dying. In a foreign world he hated, he was dying.

And unless he could get home and quickly, there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

Pulling himself up with his mostly clean hand, he washed his hands and cleaned the sink from the blood he'd gotten on it. He took a drink of the hot water, scalding his mouth and not caring. It was better than the taste of vomit or blood.

With some reluctance, he made his way back to the bedroom, where Alfons was still sitting on the edge of the bed, his face in his hands. Edward stayed silent, watching Alfons's grief and wishing he could offer comfort. A horrible thought occurred to him, that Alfons might change his mind about them, might decide to distance himself to protect his heart from the inevitable loss.

He wasn't sure which was worse; the idea of dying, or the idea of losing Alfons. He shifted on his feet, ready to face the rejection, but not entirely sure how the easiest way to find out would be. Finally, he decided to just ask. "Is it over?" he asked quietly.

Alfons jumped, looking up red eyed and wet-faced. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Are we over?" Edward said again, realizing that the way he'd previously put it wasn't terribly clear. "I wouldn't blame you if you decided to go, it's probably easier to distance yourself while you still can."

"What?" Alfons interrupted him. "God, no, Edward. I'm sticking by you through this. This isn't quits." He gave Edward a weak-looking smile and patted the bed beside him invitingly. Edward hesitated, then walked over, settling down next to Alfons. Alfons put an arm around Edward's shoulders and kissed the side of Edward's head. "I'm not giving up on you," he whispered, face buried in Edward's hair. "I love you. I'm in this until the end, whenever that may be." Then he pulled back. "Let's get some sleep, huh? You'll feel better with some rest."

Edward let himself be guided back into bed, curling up against Alfons's side as soon as they were settled. There was still the lingering fear that Alfons would change his mind, would decide that maybe distancing himself would be better, but he tried to dismiss it.

Alfons put his arm around Edward, holding him close. "I love you," he whispered. "I'm not leaving you."

Satisfied for the moment, Edward nodded and sighed. "I love you, too. I wasn't trying to chase you off, I just. Would understand."

"But you'd be heartbroken," Alfons said. "Face it, you can't live without me." He flashed Edward a bratty grin, then kissed Edward's forehead. "I'm not leaving, and that's final, Edward. So don't worry about it, okay?"

Edward bit back a yawn. "All right," he said. "You're stuck with me now, you don't get to change your mind."

"Don't plan on it," Alfons said. "Now sleep."



"Are we there yet, Alfons?" Edward demanded, his vision dark from the blindfold his boyfriend had put on him as soon as they were in the car.

"Just about, Edward, have some patience," Alfons said.

Edward snorted. "I'd like to see you have patience when you can't see where you're going." He crossed his arms petulantly.

Alfons laughed. "Just enjoy the night breeze, Edward, and be quiet."

Edward sighed, sitting back in his seat. But Alfons was right, the night air was pleasant, a bit cool, but not intolerable, and it smelled rich of the late spring flora, trees in bloom and grass growing green again. It was actually quite nice, and Edward settled back with his eyes closed behind the blindfold. The time seemed to pass significantly faster that way than when he'd been complaining.

It wasn't long before Alfons pulled over and stopped the car. "Now can I take this off?" Edward asked. At the 'not yet', he sighed dramatically and drummed his flesh fingers against the false flesh and hard mechanics of his artificial arm. Alfons's door opened and shut, and a few moments later Edward's door opened.

"Come on, Edward. Give me your hand, unless you want to trip and fall on your face."

Edward could just see the amused smirk on his boyfriend's face even blindfolded. "Asshole," he said, holding out his hand as he turned to get out of the car.

Alfons led him away from the car, down a moderate grassy slope. Edward stumbled over a couple dips in the landscape, but stayed upright, much to his relief. He didn't need grass stains on the ass of his pants.

Finally, Alfons came to a stop. "Stay here," Alfons said, letting go of Edward's hand. Edward floundered a moment, holding perfectly still, lest he slip and fall or move into Alfons and get knocked over or something equally dumb and embarrassing.

After a moment, Alfons stepped over behind Edward, nearly knocking Edward face forward for a still as Edward had been staying. "Here," he said, unknotting the blindfold. "You can open your eyes now."

The dim night light was still enough to assault his eyes as the moon rose waning into the sky. He blinked a few times, looking around. The road behind them rose up, their car the only thing visible against the horizon line. Ahead of them, further down the slope, was a cluster of trees along the winding banks of a small creek. Bullfrogs and crickets serenaded them.

"Alfons, what- where are we and why?" He looked over at his boyfriend.

Alfons moved around to settle on the blanket he'd spread out on the ground for them to sit on. "Come sit down, you'll see why. I heard on the radio that we're in for a treat if we watch the skies, and I wanted you to see this without the city lights in the way."

Bewildered, Edward settled himself in on the blanket, watching the skies curiously. He glanced over at Alfons briefly. "Have I ever told you that you're weird?"

Alfons laughed. "Oh come on, Edward, have a sense of adventure. You'll like this, I promise, and if you don't, I'll make it up once we get home."

"I may make you make it up to me anyway, even if this does turn out to be the awesomest thing ever," Edward said with a wicked grin as he laid back, watching the stars.

Alfons turned on his side, propped up on his elbow, facing Edward. "Maybe I will. But this will be worth the wait."

Edward folded his hands under his head as he stared up at the skies. After a moment of studying the stars, he frowned. "I don't recognize any of these constellations. We have a whole different set back home."

Alfons looked over at him. "What? You don't even know where the big dipper is, or Orion?"

That got a blank look out of Edward. "What're those?"

Alfons stared at him incredulously. "You... you really are from a different world than this, aren't you? Every kid knows how to spot the big dipper."

"You're just now figuring that out? You mean the thousands of other gaffes I make a day didn't tip you off?" Edward sighed. "Or the fact that my father shares in my apparent lunacy?"

Alfons looked back up at the sky. "Honestly, I thought your father was humoring you. I wasn't sure what to make of your gaffes, as you called them. I thought something traumatic happened that affected your mind somehow. Obviously something did happen, your limbs and all, but I wasn't sure what."

"You could've always asked," Edward said. "I don't keep secrets from you. Just because I haven't told you everything doesn't mean I'm hiding it."

"You kept the secret of what was wrong with your lungs at first, Edward," Alfons reminded him.

Hard to argue that point. "And I've said sorry for that. But you know, other than that, I've never lied to you. I'm from another world, from a country called Amestris. Alchemy is a working science there, not a fictional metaphysical belief system."

"So you've told me." Alfons looked back at him. "So how did you lose your limbs?"

"My brother and I tried to resurrect out mother with alchemy. It cost me my leg and him his whole body. I gave up my right arm to bind his soul to a suit of armor." Edward shrugged. "I was eleven at the time, so it's been awhile. I'm used to it. Al should be out of the armor, though, and back in his own body. That's why I'm here, I traded myself over to save him again after he used up his armor using the Philosopher's Stone to save my life. We got into lots of trouble, if you can't tell."

Alfons let out a sigh. "Jesus, Edward, you're only eighteen. How the hell do you find that much trouble before you even hit adulthood?"

Edward looked over at him with a grin. "Luck." He looked back up at the sky. "So what am I watching for here?"

"You'll see- oh, wait, there's one." Alfons pointed up at the sky.

Edward tilted his head. "One what? I don't see any- oh hey." He smiled as another shooting star went streaking across the sky. "A meteor shower. Did you ever wish on these as a kid?"

"For awhile," Alfons answered, watching the sky as more stars rained down over the night. "I stopped about the time I stopped believing in God. I stopped believing in anything, really."

"I never believed in it, but I wished on them just the same. Me and Al and Winry, we used to have competitions to see who could make the most outlandish wish. They dubbed me the winner most times. Guess I have a pretty ridiculous imagination." He was quiet a moment. "God, I miss them. You and me, we're going to get back there, someday, and we can get married, and let Winry help us plan. Might get her to do something feminine for once. You'll like her, she's an engineer like you. She specializes in automail, but she likes taking apart anything she can get her hands on and then making new things out of it."

Alfons smiled, still watching the skies. "She sounds nice. What about your brother? What would he think of you wanting to marry a man?"

"He wouldn't think much of it, besides 'that explains why you could grope a woman and still not notice her,' honestly. Our world is a lot different than yours, Alfons. The church hasn't had power for centuries. Homosexuals of both genders can get married legally and no one bats an eyelash at it." Edward looked over at him. "You would want to get married, right?"

"Hm?" Alfons glanced over. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry, it's just never entered my life plan due to laws around here, so I'm ... I'm not hesitant, I just can't get used to the idea that I could somewhere. But yes, I would. It would be nice, to be legal for once." He smiled. "So is that how Edward Elric proposes, or are you just babbling again?"

Edward turned red. "I- ... both? I'm not very good at romance, you know that. Jesus."

"I know that," Alfons said, turning back to the skies. "But what's this about you groping a woman?"

Somehow, Edward managed to turn redder. "I tackled a thief one time, and we landed in a compromising position, with my hand on her breast. It was... awkward."

Alfons laughed. "Oh, Edward, leave it to you. What am I going to do with you?"

"I can think of a few things," Edward said. "Wanna head home now? I think the shower's tapering off now."

Alfons sat up. "I think so too. Let's go."

"If you blindfold me for the trip home, I will end you, Alfons," Edward warned.

Alfons laughed. "I won't, Edward, don't worry. Now get up so I can fold up the blanket."



"The German people must rise up and take back our pride! Our dignity! Our honor!" The beer hall speaker prattled on, stirring up feelings of patriotism and rebelliousness both in the natives there for drinks and the ones there to listen to this National Socialist speaker's rabble rousing.

"Alfons?" Edward looked across the table at Alfons. "Your country is full of stupid."

His boyfriend swallowed the beer he'd been in the middle of drinking before setting his stein down. "I knew that, but what brought this on? This guy? He's nuts, but he makes a point. He's going about it wrong, but unless you missed it in your otherworld haze, Germany's in dire straits. We're bullied by the French and the other Allies and we're broke. Did you happen to notice food prices?"

Edward grimaced. "I noticed them, believe me. But you have no way to fight. I'm not saying just accept it, but do something other than instigate revolutions and more wars."

Alfons sighed. "Okay, that part I can't argue with. He's doing it wrong. I just wonder what you'd consider trying something other than that when we're so helpless right now."

"I don't understand the situation enough to come up with something," Edward confessed. "But it's not too different of a situation from what Yousewell was like. Much smaller scale and the details were different, but same general idea."

"Yousewell? What's that?" Alfons grinned. "Story time again?"

Edward casually flipped him off. "I am not a story teller, but yes, if you're curious, I'll tell you what happened." He set down his glass of whiskey. "Mustang sent me ahead of him out East to supposedly inspect this mine for valuable ore in a town called Yousewell. Personally, I think he intended on me cleaning house for him, the jackass."

"Now, Mustang, you've mentioned him," Alfons interrupted. "He was your... commanding officer, right?"

Edward nodded. "That's right. He'd just gotten a promotion to colonel and was being transferred to East Headquarters. He sent me ahead to inspect this mine. I get there, and the miners hate me for being military. Kick me out of the inn, even though I was fixing things for them. Turned out some military creep was running things, had the title to the mine, and he was constantly lowering pay and raising taxes. The miners were working second jobs around town just to get by, thus the inn."

Alfons set down his drink he'd been nursing while listening to Edward. "So like the Sherrif of Nottingham? Or Prince John?"

Edward looked at him blankly. "Who?"

"Never mind, just an English legend that's well known." He waved it off. "Go on."

Edward downed a drink of whiskey. "Anyway, Al gets to stay, because I told them he had nothing to do with me. No sense in us both getting kicked out to the elements. He came out to bring me some food, and this Lieutenant Yoki, the military slime? Came by to collect more taxes from Halling and his family on the inn. I step in just as Halling's kid mouths off and nearly gets himself killed by Yoki's cronies. He wasn't any too pleased until he saw my watch. Should've seen how fast he started licking my boot polish."

Alfons raised an eyebrow. "You polished your boots? That seems like more effort into your appearance than you normally put, Edward."

Once again, Edward flipped him off. "Asshole. It's a figure of speech, you know that."

Alfons laughed. "I know, I'm just teasing, Edward. Anyway, go on. What'd you do to that creep? Punch him? That seems your style."

Edward glared. "I wanted to, but this was my first official assignment for the military, I didn't need to botch it up that badly and lose my certification or something. The guy wasn't worth it. So I went up to his mansion with him, where the asshole tries to bribe me into giving a good review on the mine. I pretended to accept, but I wasn't sure what I'd really do. He'd been bribing his higher ups out there, and the whole region was pretty corrupt. If I could take down him, Mustang might have an easier time cleaning up the area so he wasn't dealing with that kind of officer."

"You actually did something nice for Mustang?" Edward scowled as his boyfriend gave him a teasing smile. "I'm shocked, I thought you hated him."

"I didn't," Edward protested. "I resented him a lot, but I didn't hate him. Hate developed later, and he ended up turning that upside down on me even later than that. Now I just miss him. He was like a father to us for a lot of years, trying to protect us from the military we served." His gaze grew distant for a few heartbeats, then he shook his head and took a sip of his drink. "Anyway, Yoki had Halling's inn destroyed that night by his pet alchemist, Lyla. She totally demolished the place. Al saved Halling's kid from the wreckage. I heard the commotion and went to see what was going on. I asked the miner why they didn't just move to another mine not owned by such a creep. I still remember what they said. 'This is our home and our grave.' I may have burned down my home, but that didn't mean everyone should be a wanderer like me."

"And here we get to what you actually did," Alfons said. "You talk a lot, Edward."

Edward glared. "Do you want me to tell you or not?" he snapped. At Alfons's nodding, he finished off his whiskey before continuing. "I took the bribe of gold coins Yoki gave me and used them to coat some slag the miners had. Offered to Yoki- if that'd been real gold, it would've been worth over a billion cens. I'd say it's worth more in marks, to give you an idea."

"You offered him more money, Edward? Fake or not, that seems counterproductive." Alfons finished off his beer and glanced in the stein as if considering to get more.

"I offered it in exchange for the mine. He didn't want to look bad, accepting what amounted to a bribe for the mine's deed, so I had him sign a note saying he was giving it to me for free, and the gold was his. Before I left, when nobody was looking, I reversed the transmutation, took the deed down to the inn I'd rebuilt for them- with alchemy, before you ask, yes I cheated- and offered them the deed in exchange for one night at the inn. Yoki and his goons came to get the deed back and the miners beat the shit out of them and sent them off running for the hills."

"And so Robin Hood stole from the rich and gave to the poor and saved the day," Alfons said with a laugh.

Edward blinked. "Robin Hood?"

"Same English legend, sorry. He did the same sort of thing, but he was more blatant about his robbing and giving." Alfons stood up. "I'm going to get more, did you want another glass?"

Edward shook his head. "No, mine's more expensive and more potent. I don't need to be falling down on my way home."

Alfons laughed, then grabbed Edward's glass. "I'll take this back up, then. Try to stay out of trouble while I'm gone."

Easier said than done. Edward went back to watching the speaker boredly, trying to tune out his special brand of crazy. He ignored voices around him, until a hand clamped down on his flesh shoulder. "Hey, you. Pretty boy."

Edward looked back up at his assailant. "The fuck's your problem?" he snapped, shrugging his shoulder free of the man's hand.

The man, a large, burly sort with dark hair and eyes and smelling heavily of alcohol, narrowed his eyes. "What's the matter? Why aren't you cheering for him? You anti-German or something, you damn pretty little faggot?"

Being called anti-German, he couldn't care less about. Outside of Alfons, Edward didn't give a shit about Germany or its problems. Being called pretty was really obnoxious. Except his hair, nothing about him was 'pretty' or effeminate in any way. But being called a faggot and not denying it somehow would get a man into trouble. Edward turned in his seat. "I'm going to give you this one chance to turn around and go away and I'll pretend you never said that," he said, voice a dangerous growl. "You're too drunk to know what you're saying."

"The hell I am!" the man bellowed, grabbing Edward's shoulder again. Before he could do or say anything else, Edward was up on his feet, catching the man across the jaw with a vicious right hook, backed up by the superior strength of the machines in his arm. The man stumbled back, then leapt forward, reaching for Edward's throat. Edward ducked, slamming his left fist into the man's gut.

"If you know what's good for you," Edward said, cracking his knuckles as the other man struggled to keep his balance, "you'll back off now. I'm better than you."

The man reached forward and grabbed Edward's hair, giving it a hard yank that made Edward squawk and stumble forward. The man wrapped his oversized arm around Edward's neck, lifting him bodily off the ground. Edward flailed his legs, trying to aim a kick behind him to get free as his air supply started to wane. His lungs rebelled violently as he finally wiggled his head free and slipped down out of the man's grip, falling to his knees as a wracking cough hit him full in the chest. He spat blood.

"Gotcha, didn't I?" The man laughed entirely drunkenly. Before anything else could happen beyond Edward's coughing, someone came running over and then the sound of the man behind him landing on the ground.

Alfons knelt by Edward. "You okay?"

Edward nodded, spitting out more blood. "What happened?"

Holding out a hand to help Edward up, Alfons stood. "I hit him. He was already pretty much done for, with you wailing on him. What happened here, Edward?"

Edward stood up with Alfons's help. "He's a drunk who didn't like the fact that I wasn't cheering for Hitler over there. Or whatever his stupid name is." He wiped his chin, frowning at the blood, then down at the ground. "Jesus, it looks like I lost a tooth." He sighed. He used to be a top notch fighter, and now he couldn't even handle a bar fight without his 'condition' knocking him on his ass. "Sorry, you shouldn't have had to finish that for me." He looked at the drunk, who was out cold. "You must've really clocked him one, Alfons."

"He'll wake up eventually," Alfons said dismissively. "Come on, let's go home. Before we draw more attention."

They slipped quietly out of the beer hall, furtively stepping around the people who'd started to gather at the commotion the drunk had caused. Once free of the building and out in the autumn air, Alfons looked at Edward. "It's getting worse, isn't it?" he asked quietly.

Edward didn't answer him for a long moment, still brooding, still miserable over the whole issue before finally answering. "Yeah, it is."

Silence passed between them for a span of several heartbeats. "We'll just have to work harder to get you home, then," Alfons said. "You said medicinal alchemy can help you, right?"

"Theoretically. What're you going to do if it doesn't?" Edward looked at him.

"I'll stay there. I may not have anyone there, but I have nobody else here, either. At least there I won't have to worry about the law." Alfons shrugged like it was no big deal.

Edward frowned. "You'll stay with my family. They'll be your family. You deserve a good one. They'll take care of you."

Alfons shook his head. "I can't ask that of them, Edward."

Edward stopped and looked around for a moment, then grabbed Alfons by the collar and pulled Alfons down to face level. "My family will take care of you, Alfons. Don't make me kick your ass until you accept it."

His boyfriend stared at him, wide-eyed. "All right, all right," he said. "Let go of me. I can land a mean punch too."

"You wouldn't dare," Edward said.

"Only if you would."

For a moment, neither moved. Finally, Edward let go of his boyfriend. "We have a sick definition of foreplay, Alfons." He resumed his walk back towards their apartment. "This sucks. I hate feeling helpless."

"You're not helpless," Alfons assured him, keeping up with his boyfriend's quick pace. "We'll get you home. Your brother can fix you and everything will be fine."

They were both desperately holding onto that.

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