The Rest of the Story
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
5,235
Reviews:
55
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
5,235
Reviews:
55
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Touch
Touch
Roy/Ed
Ed had always thought that Winry Rockbell would be the only person capable of drawing Ed’s automail with eyes closed. Even Ed wasn't certain he would remember every screw, every bolt. Yes, Winry had designed it, and she was obsessed with automail, so it was natural for her to know it better than anyone else.
But there was one other who knew Ed’s automail as well as she did and in ways that she didn’t—never would if Ed had anything to say about it, Al too.
Each and every night, Roy traced over Ed’s automail, fingers running over the ridges and joints, both in broad daylight and in the dark.
Sometimes, Ed could see the motions even when the older man slept, his pale fingers slipping over smooth steel, fingertips moving into each curve and dip. The palms that were clear of any thick calluses easily glided over the steel and joints for all of its moving parts.
It was almost like watching a child rub over their favorite blanket or stuffed animal at these early morning moments. The faintest light would show that his face looked genuinely comforted in the movements he made. Each sensation seemed to renew the faint smile on his face, and even evoke the occasional sigh.
Sometimes, Roy would purposely position himself to be seated or standing on Ed’s right, particularly when they were going to be in a large gathering. Though, Ed had to admit that the gesture normally made him feel better than worse. It meant that Roy was near the arm that always seemed to be the cause of discomfort for both Ed and their guests. But the entire time they ate or chatted, Roy’s hand was on his, his quick fingers moving at all times.
The younger man had asked his now silver-haired husband back when the man’s hair was the color of jet whether he had always done it as much, or if this was something new. Roy swore he’d always done it this much, even when Ed couldn’t feel it, even when it was too dark for him to see.
Ed had naturally been confused. “Why?” he had asked.
“Because I could feel it,” Roy had answered. And for one of the few times in his life, Edward Elric was silenced.
Now that they both were sporting varying shades of gray, Ed looked over at Roy, who was once again tracing over his arm. “You’re doing it again,” Ed said.
“Do you want me to stop?” his husband asked.
Ed shook his head and kissed Roy on his left cheek, over the scars he no longer even saw.
Roy/Ed
Ed had always thought that Winry Rockbell would be the only person capable of drawing Ed’s automail with eyes closed. Even Ed wasn't certain he would remember every screw, every bolt. Yes, Winry had designed it, and she was obsessed with automail, so it was natural for her to know it better than anyone else.
But there was one other who knew Ed’s automail as well as she did and in ways that she didn’t—never would if Ed had anything to say about it, Al too.
Each and every night, Roy traced over Ed’s automail, fingers running over the ridges and joints, both in broad daylight and in the dark.
Sometimes, Ed could see the motions even when the older man slept, his pale fingers slipping over smooth steel, fingertips moving into each curve and dip. The palms that were clear of any thick calluses easily glided over the steel and joints for all of its moving parts.
It was almost like watching a child rub over their favorite blanket or stuffed animal at these early morning moments. The faintest light would show that his face looked genuinely comforted in the movements he made. Each sensation seemed to renew the faint smile on his face, and even evoke the occasional sigh.
Sometimes, Roy would purposely position himself to be seated or standing on Ed’s right, particularly when they were going to be in a large gathering. Though, Ed had to admit that the gesture normally made him feel better than worse. It meant that Roy was near the arm that always seemed to be the cause of discomfort for both Ed and their guests. But the entire time they ate or chatted, Roy’s hand was on his, his quick fingers moving at all times.
The younger man had asked his now silver-haired husband back when the man’s hair was the color of jet whether he had always done it as much, or if this was something new. Roy swore he’d always done it this much, even when Ed couldn’t feel it, even when it was too dark for him to see.
Ed had naturally been confused. “Why?” he had asked.
“Because I could feel it,” Roy had answered. And for one of the few times in his life, Edward Elric was silenced.
Now that they both were sporting varying shades of gray, Ed looked over at Roy, who was once again tracing over his arm. “You’re doing it again,” Ed said.
“Do you want me to stop?” his husband asked.
Ed shook his head and kissed Roy on his left cheek, over the scars he no longer even saw.