Author's Note: There is an illustration (rated PG-13 for a kiss) for this fic that may be found here: http:// peace-of-hope . deviantart . com / art / 14-Kisses-76940854 (just take out all the extra spaces)

This fanfiction is also dedicated to GraceMac—it was written for her birthday. Happy Birthday!

1 4 K I S S E S

Alphonse crossed off the day on his calendar, his eyes moving from the large black "X" to the even larger red heart that sparkled from the glitter-pen ink. He sighed dreamily, and blushed a rosy glow as he grabbed the sheets off the bed and wrapped them around his slender waist in a seductive draping of fabric.

"Brother?" he called out sweetly, still blushing. He had it all planned out, the perfect day: he and Ed would go out and play in the February snow, making snow angels and snow hearts; they would cuddle by the fire drinking hot cocoa with marshmallows and maybe make love, and at the very least make out; he would cook a romantic dinner of pasta with chocolate cake and strawberries, that he would hand feed Ed, for dessert; they would kiss and touch and Ed would lead him off to their bedroom and they would make love all night—

Al stepped into the kitchen. Ed wasn't there. He'd said he was getting breakfast. It was his day off. Ed wasn't there.

"Worst Valentine's Day ever," he said bitterly, tasting salty tears.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"I'm fine, Winry," Al sighed as they walked through the park. The snow crunched under their feet as they walked, bundled up against the cold. He brushed fresh snowflakes off the shoulders of his heavy overcoat.

She rolled her eyes. "Number one, you and Ed both suck at lying, so don't try to fool me," Al scowled at this, but she continued, "So I know when something is up." She paused, looking at him. "Just what did Ed do anyway?" Winry flipped some hair over her shoulder, hastily stuffing her hands back into her orange coat.

Al continued to scowl. She made it seem so… trivial... which it was. "Nothing," he mumbled. "It was nothing," he said a little louder. "He just left without saying goodbye."

"That all?" she asked nonchalantly as she took a seat on a bench, scattering pigeons.

He took a seat next to her. "It's a big deal for me!" he defended. "Brother always waits for me to wake up before he eats, and he always says goodbye. Besides, he left me alone on Valentine's Day!"

"Edward loves you Al—if he finds out you cried over this he'll feel guilty for a year!"

Al nodded, looking down at the ground. "I know…"

She giggled. "You could just pretend I'm your girlfriend if it bothers you so much." She leaned in closer. "Come on, you know you want to give me a kiss Al," he teased him.

Al blushed crimson. "Ew! No!" he squeaked, nearly falling off the bench. "You're like my sister!"

Winry burst out laughing and didn't stop chucking as she dragged Alphonse back to his house.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was dusk as Al unlocked the back door to their house and slipped in the kitchen, eyes on his coat as he took it off and hung it on the hook. "Brother, I'm home—" he looked up, surprised to see Ed was actually there, and even more surprised to see that—"Ed, you made dinner?!" he asked, shocked.

Ed huffed, a little miffed that Al doubted both his culinary skills and care for his brother. "Of course, you idiot!"

"But—" Al began, but Ed cut him off.

"It's Valentine's Day, what? Did you expect me to do nothing?" his tone was incredulous. "Give me a little credit." He chuckled, stirring the vegetables into the linguini noodles.

Al blushed a little for thinking Edward had all out abandoned him and smiled, going over to hug his brother from behind. "Thank you, Edward," he whispered, kissing his cheek.

Ed faltered a little in stirring the shrimp, the tips of his ears pinking. "I-It was nothing."

Al's smile grew wider.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ed cleared away the silverware and the glasses, refusing to allow Al another half-glass of wine even though he'd only been allowed one half-glass to begin with. Al set the rest of the cake, which had been a little dry, but still tasty all the same, in the fridge and set the strawberries back in the fruit drawer. He washed his hands and dried them; mere seconds later Ed pried him away from the sink—where he knew Al was going to start washing the dishes—and guided him into the living room.

Ed flopped on the couch and pulled his brother down on top of him, letting Al snuggle into his chest as he combed his fingers through Al's bronze locks.

"Hey, Al?" Ed asked.

Al looked up at him, a little curious at the anxiety in Ed's voice. Ed was hardly ever nervous—he was so confident, or acted confident, around Al. "What is it?" he asked, keeping his own voice calm so that Ed might feel calm too.

Ed's eyes grew wider and he hastily said, "Don't cut your hair! I like it long."

Al gave him a quizzical look, but laughed it off. "I wasn't planning on cutting it, Brother."

Ed nodded, looking off at the wall and not at Al. "Al… you know I love you… right?"

"Of course! I love you too, Brother!" Al exclaimed, tracing circles on Ed's chest. He heard Ed sigh.

"Then…" a long pause. What was Ed waiting for? Al wondered. Ed turned and looked at Al.

"Then… will you marry me?"

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Al was quite taken aback by what Ed asked. "M-Marry you?" he stammered.

Ed nodded, weakly, feeling more sick to his stomach now than before he asked: Al didn't exactly sound surprised in the excited, I-though-you'd-never-ask, I-love-you-more-than-life-YES, loving answer for which he'd been hoping.

It sounded downright mocking. Al sat up a little, putting some space between him and his brother. "Marry you?" his voice came out a hollow laugh. "We can't get married." He brought his feet up on the sofa and his knees to his chest, hugging them close to ward off the dreamy, happy-go-lucky optimism Ed seemed to have in asking this of him. He and Ed get married? It wouldn't have been such a joke if they weren't…

"Al?" Ed asked, softly, then stood up in a hurry, almost pacing the room anxiously. "Nope, nevermind, I understand." He didn't, Al knew that. He could catch the hidden anger in Ed's voice, the higher octave betraying him.

Al started to cry, involuntarily; he didn't mean it to prey on Ed's sympathies, even though it did and always did. He rushed back over to Al, perching on the edge of the couch. "Al, don't cry, it's silly—it really is a stupid idea, I'm sorry—I shouldn't have—"

"It's not fair!" Al's voice rose. "How can you even ask that? You KNOW we CAN'T!!" he screamed at him. Ed retracted again, his anger flaring.

"If we weren't brothers would it be different?" Ed spat back.

Al glared at him, tears still streaming down his face as everything became hyperbolic and distorted. "... I… I don't know... is… that what you want? Do you… w-wish… it... it was different? I… I'm sorry I'm your brother then!" He cried even harder as he said that, leaping up from the sofa, but Ed stopped him, pulling him in for a hug. Al huffed and breathed heavily, so angry with his brother and hurt… he took a deep breath: Ed felt the same way, he knew he did.

Ed smoothed Al's hair, trying to calm down. "I'll buy you a ring, give you flowers, take you on a trip, whatever the hell you want to make it more legal, or traditional for you! I'm so fucking in love with you, Al, I'm telling you I don't want to end up with anyone else! Ever!" His voice had risen again, with the fear that Al would reject him once more.

Y-You scare me... when you act like that and yell. I-I want hugs… and kisses… and affection--not yelling!" He told him, his voice filled with a plea.

Ed was a little surprised; he hadn't meant to yell and get angry, but it still didn't excuse his actions. "Al, I'll give you all that... but here I am saying I want to marry you or do whatever is closest, and you throw it back and say we can't ever get married. I'm hurt--what do you want?"

"B-because we... we can't... we can't get married..." he couldn't get his mind around the legal aspect of it all.

Ed was still holding on to some hope, grasping at the ends of it. "But--But we can live together for the rest of our lives and be married just to each other, no one else has to know. I can get you a ring, I'll take care of you like I do now, I mean, I can't make it legal, but I can make it similar. Is that good enough?" he was near begging, but his pride wouldn't allow him to get down on his knees just yet.

Al nodded "Y-Yes.." he whimpered and moved closer. "A-Ask… Ask me again, brother."

Edward was shaking. "Al, this is all I can give you, but I don't want you to ever be apart from me." He blushed, suddenly nervous again now that Al had changed his mind—or just listened to what Ed was proposing—and had to go with the customs and formalities of such a proposal.

He tinged pinker as he bent down on one knee, supporting Al, who looked like he might faint, with a hand on his thigh. "S-So, Al--Al, will you---Al, will you marry me?" He finally forced it out, holding open the small black velvet box he had slipped from his pocket.

Al just stood there, gawking at him. The rings were simple, silver—no, steel—Al noticed with a careful eye, but he didn't want diamonds, or platinum, or gold, or anything fancy and he didn't even care that Ed had forgotten and got them both rings instead of just Al for the engagement, or that Ed slipped the rings on their right hands instead of left… in fact, Ed's explanation of all this was drowned out.

And Al was on him, pulling him forward in a deep kiss as he wrapped an arm around him and let his other hand smooth across Ed's cheek.

"Yes."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Ed kissed him gently on the lips, guiding Al down on the bed before crawling on top of him. His lips glided over Al's, pressing in deeper as the kiss prolonged. One.

Ed pulled away to pull Al's shirt over his head, and then kissed him again, slipping his tongue in his mouth, eliciting a low moan from Al. Two. Al kept up the mental tally.

"Brother, what are you doing?" Al asked as Ed held his hand and led him to the bedroom.

"It's obvious," he laughed lightly, "But I'm going to give you fourteen kisses on top of that—and then some."

Al blushed and shut the door.

He kissed his brother back, touching his tongue to Ed's. Ed kissed him harder, more passionately as their bodies touched and Ed's hands roamed across his chest. Three?

Four—ah! Ed had left his mouth, kissing and nipping at the skin on his neck, drawing it up a little. Al arched up at Five! : a nip to his collarbone that became one long, trailing kiss that settled around a nipple and sucked the numb until it hardened under his lips. Six sent shivers down Al's spine; Ed kissed down his sides and around his navel, before stopping just above his pants line and trailing back up around the other nipple and his neck.

Seven was sweet, a delicate set of kisses all over his face, that tickled and left his skin feeling warm and tingly.

Ed kissed his way back down Al's body again, undoing his clothes as he went until Al was bare beneath him, flushed and ready. Eightsent Al arching off the bed when Ed kissed his inner thigh, and nine had Al quivering and begging, "No—stop—m-more—brother!" at the seductively teasing kiss to his tip.

Al wriggled and writhed under Ed with nine being a tantalizing tongue journey around Al's entrance and an even more torturous tongue dance around his balls.

Ed kissed Al on the lips again, hungrily, with ten; he hastily pulled off his own clothes and threw them in the growing pile, pressing up against Al and grinding on him. Al cried out, panting Ed's name. He held him close, spreading his legs. Eleven was a soft, gentle kiss with whisperings of "I'm sorry," into Al's skin while Ed stretched and prepared him with slicked up fingers.

Twelve was passionate again, hot and consuming with a nip on the lower lip as Ed thrust hard but slow into his brother, hitting that spot within him that made him cry out and hug Ed a little closer. Thirteen was quick, broken by Al's sobbed cry and Ed's muffed scream into Al's shoulder; Al came hard against him, panting, with Ed coming a few minutes later, shakily pulling Al close.

Fourteen was fumbled, retried when they had both regained their breath and coherency. It was fleeting, but long, a brush of the lips across the other's and a sweet sigh from Al. Fourteen ended with a kiss to the hand from Al, a peck on the cold steel metal that surrounded his brother's finger.

"Love you," he whispered, reaching out to smooth some of Ed's sweat drenched bangs from his forehead.

"Love you too," Ed whispered back, eyes half-lidded and then closed. He felt asleep quickly, exhausted, but content, with Al's fingers still entwined in his own.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"And what do you want?" Al asked, giggling, the next morning as Ed blinked in the sunlight.

"Huh?" he asked groggily, rubbing some sleep out of his eyes. "Wadya mean?"

Al giggled some more. "Equivalent Exchange, brother," he explained. "For last night." He blushed a little, pulling the sheets close even though Ed was pressed against him still.

"Oh…" Ed just smirked against his brother's skin. "14 fucks, my little fiancé," he said frankly.

Edward soon grew more acquainted with his pillow as Al smacked him with it playfully. Al lost the tickle fight, but Ed lost the make out match. They called it a draw at 99.