The Rest of the Story
folder
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
5,219
Reviews:
55
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fullmetal Alchemist › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
24
Views:
5,219
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.
Sofa
A/N: Okay, we have another little story here. I hope you enjoy. And thanks everyone for all the reviews.
Sofa
“It’s old and needs put out of its misery, Ed,” Roy said from the kitchen, Ed standing in the study, glaring at his husband through the walls.
“Not if I have anything to do about it,” he yelled back.
“Come on, Ed, for one night, you’re here, we’re not fighting,” Roy said, standing at the doorway, tossing those salt and pepper strands out of his eyes, “do you really want to start over a couch?”
Ed looked down at the object of their discussion. It wasn’t just a couch. It was HIS couch. It was where he slept during the rebellion, when Roy’s closest men (and Riza) had been ordered to stay at Roy’s place.
The thing had a lot of memories for him. When he was pregnant, and he and Roy would sit side by side—Roy always swore he didn’t consider Ed as a possible lover, but he could have sat anywhere else. Ed would sit on the left, which was where he sat when they were first able to see and feel the faint bump of the twins, where he’d been the first time they’d made out.
Not even thinking about the fact that Roy was still standing behind him as he ran a hand over the left armrest, remembering when Ed and Roy had taken turns bending the other over the armrest, and taking him from behind. It brought a smile to his face, trying to remember when either of them had had that kind of energy. Considering he wasn’t now any older than Roy had been then, Ed wondered how the hell his husband had the stamina.
The hand moved to the back of the sofa, where the leather had been alchemically repaired, though it was still a bit thin, thanks largely to the cyclone of a son he’d given birth to. Nicholas had flopped down on the sofa, his automail catching and ripping a strip of the leather off, Black Hayate ripping it completely off in a rare excited mood a few months before he’d died. Where the dog had taken it, no one ever found out, so the leather would stay just a bit too thin.
Then there was the other side of the sofa, where Aideen had laid, listening to the radio when she’d been recovering from the poisoning, her little voice tinkling as she giggled at the radio, crumbs and butter all over her face and hands, sipping on soda water.
There were a few chinks in the wood above the backrest, which Roy insisted they keep because of the circumstances around how Ed’s automail had created them, the same circumstances that were the reason Ed had insisted they keep Roy’s bite marks on the right cushion.
With a shudder, Ed also remembered that this same sofa was where his niece had been conceived, a fact he’d unwillingly discovered after a slip on Al’s part. That thought alone was enough to make him want to at least reupholster his favorite piece of furniture. He’d just frame that piece of leather with the indentation of Roy’s teeth.
“You really want to keep this old thing?” A pale hand rubbed over the dark leather.
“Yeah, I think I’m keeping you.”
“Bite me, Ed,” Roy said, taking his place on the sofa, legs stretched across it. He then pulled Ed down with him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist, just as they’d done so many times before.
“What do you think they’ll look like?” Ed asked, rubbing his round stomach as he walked into the study, taking a bite out of the sandwich he was carrying. “I mean, they’re you, me, and Riza.”
He found Roy nuzzling against his neck. “I hope they inherit my genes for height.”
“You bastard!” Ed said, shoving Roy down onto the couch. “Who you calling so short his babies would be ants?”
“Get over here, Ed,” Roy said.
“Don’t want to,” Ed said. “This is the first time I haven’t felt so damned hormonal I can’t control myself, and you have to make a short joke.”
“Edward,” Roy said, grabbing Ed’s hands, slowly pulling the bloated body in front of him, arms working their way beneath Ed’s to splay fingers across the distended belly. “I don’t care what they look like. I’ll love them even if they are a bunch of little runts like their dad.”
“Shut up you perverted old man!” But all thought at fighting stopped as Roy began sucking above his collarbone, bruising the teen’s neck.
Ed sighed contentedly as he continued to eat, making Roy move his head to the top of Ed’s.
“Love you, bastard.”
“Love you, shrimp.”
Sofa
“It’s old and needs put out of its misery, Ed,” Roy said from the kitchen, Ed standing in the study, glaring at his husband through the walls.
“Not if I have anything to do about it,” he yelled back.
“Come on, Ed, for one night, you’re here, we’re not fighting,” Roy said, standing at the doorway, tossing those salt and pepper strands out of his eyes, “do you really want to start over a couch?”
Ed looked down at the object of their discussion. It wasn’t just a couch. It was HIS couch. It was where he slept during the rebellion, when Roy’s closest men (and Riza) had been ordered to stay at Roy’s place.
The thing had a lot of memories for him. When he was pregnant, and he and Roy would sit side by side—Roy always swore he didn’t consider Ed as a possible lover, but he could have sat anywhere else. Ed would sit on the left, which was where he sat when they were first able to see and feel the faint bump of the twins, where he’d been the first time they’d made out.
Not even thinking about the fact that Roy was still standing behind him as he ran a hand over the left armrest, remembering when Ed and Roy had taken turns bending the other over the armrest, and taking him from behind. It brought a smile to his face, trying to remember when either of them had had that kind of energy. Considering he wasn’t now any older than Roy had been then, Ed wondered how the hell his husband had the stamina.
The hand moved to the back of the sofa, where the leather had been alchemically repaired, though it was still a bit thin, thanks largely to the cyclone of a son he’d given birth to. Nicholas had flopped down on the sofa, his automail catching and ripping a strip of the leather off, Black Hayate ripping it completely off in a rare excited mood a few months before he’d died. Where the dog had taken it, no one ever found out, so the leather would stay just a bit too thin.
Then there was the other side of the sofa, where Aideen had laid, listening to the radio when she’d been recovering from the poisoning, her little voice tinkling as she giggled at the radio, crumbs and butter all over her face and hands, sipping on soda water.
There were a few chinks in the wood above the backrest, which Roy insisted they keep because of the circumstances around how Ed’s automail had created them, the same circumstances that were the reason Ed had insisted they keep Roy’s bite marks on the right cushion.
With a shudder, Ed also remembered that this same sofa was where his niece had been conceived, a fact he’d unwillingly discovered after a slip on Al’s part. That thought alone was enough to make him want to at least reupholster his favorite piece of furniture. He’d just frame that piece of leather with the indentation of Roy’s teeth.
“You really want to keep this old thing?” A pale hand rubbed over the dark leather.
“Yeah, I think I’m keeping you.”
“Bite me, Ed,” Roy said, taking his place on the sofa, legs stretched across it. He then pulled Ed down with him, wrapping his arms around the smaller man’s waist, just as they’d done so many times before.
“What do you think they’ll look like?” Ed asked, rubbing his round stomach as he walked into the study, taking a bite out of the sandwich he was carrying. “I mean, they’re you, me, and Riza.”
He found Roy nuzzling against his neck. “I hope they inherit my genes for height.”
“You bastard!” Ed said, shoving Roy down onto the couch. “Who you calling so short his babies would be ants?”
“Get over here, Ed,” Roy said.
“Don’t want to,” Ed said. “This is the first time I haven’t felt so damned hormonal I can’t control myself, and you have to make a short joke.”
“Edward,” Roy said, grabbing Ed’s hands, slowly pulling the bloated body in front of him, arms working their way beneath Ed’s to splay fingers across the distended belly. “I don’t care what they look like. I’ll love them even if they are a bunch of little runts like their dad.”
“Shut up you perverted old man!” But all thought at fighting stopped as Roy began sucking above his collarbone, bruising the teen’s neck.
Ed sighed contentedly as he continued to eat, making Roy move his head to the top of Ed’s.
“Love you, bastard.”
“Love you, shrimp.”