He'salivehe'shumanwedidit!

The jumbled thoughts ran through Ed's brain for the thousandth time while he watched his brother attack his dinner. It had been two days, and he still couldn't quite believe it. But Al was sitting across from him, living, breathing, and stuffing his face with roasted beef and potatoes. His appetite was infectious, and Ed found himself eating more than usual.

Since getting him back Ed couldn't take his eyes off Al, and he was constantly finding excuses to touch him as well. A part of him feared - however irrationally - that he had imagined the whole thing, or that he was dreaming again; and so Ed sought the sound of a beating heart and the feel of a pulse beneath living skin.

'I'm not going to disappear, brother,' Al had teased him with a laugh, but Ed noticed that Al didn't let them be physically separated for very long. A shoulder or knee would bump against his while they sat, fingers would entwine while they walked, or a golden-brown head would lean on his shoulder when they sat and rested. Ed had also woken up the past two mornings to find his brother curled up next to him.

Al obviously craved the physical contact, and Ed was happy to oblige him.

Even now, while they sat facing each other at a table in the inn's tiny dining room, Al's leg was stretched under the table, firmly pressed against Ed's good leg. Ed closed his eyes and savored the warmth that radiated through the fabric of their pants. He was ridiculously happy.

"My goodness, young man, you have quite an appetite!"

Ed opened his eyes to see the innkeeper's wife smiling at Al; his brother had decimated his meal and was glancing over at the desserts on the sideboard. "He hasn't had a proper meal in awhile," Ed commented with a grin.

"How about some pie, then? I baked a lovely apple pie this afternoon."

A twinkling gaze met Ed's, and Al replied, "I'm sorry, ma'am, I'm only allowed to have my friend Winry's apple pie. But I'd love some cherry pie!" So they both ate cherry pie, and the innkeeper's wife tried (unsuccessfully) to get Ed to have a glass of milk with his. Al pointed and laughed, and drank it for him.

After they were done, Ed noticed Al yawning one too many times. "Let's head to our room," he suggested. "You need your rest."

"Okay," Al agreed, rubbing his eyes. "I am tired."

They retrieved their packs from the front desk and made their way up to their room. Ed unlocked the door and went in, and Al followed. "They didn't have a double?" Al asked, pointing at the room's single bed. He dropped his new duffel at the foot of the bed.

Ed laughed. "I decided to save the extra money, since you've ended up in bed with me every night!" He laughed again when he saw Al's cheeks flush.

"I can't help it," Al mumbled, scuffing his shoe on the rug. "It feels weird being by myself. It's okay, isn't it? You don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind, silly." Ed punched him lightly on the arm. "You can go wash up first."

It was nice to have a normal before-bed routine; for so many years their evening ablutions had included oiling and cleaning Al's armor. Ed scrounged in his duffel for a clean pair of boxers and discovered the maintenance kit bag, and he set it on the table so they could celebrate disposing of the now unnecessary tools. Ed listened to Al humming in the shower and felt another fierce pang of joy. He'salivehe'shumanwedidit!

The bathroom door opened, and Al emerged from a cloud of steam with a towel around his waist. "Your turn!"

"You used up all the hot water again, didn't you?" Ed accused.

"I tried not to! But the hot water feels really nice."

Ed couldn't deny him that, so he grabbed his boxers and took his own shower, which was considerably shorter than his brother's. From now on he would go first, Ed decided while he toweled his hair dry, and he came back into the room to find All sitting cross-legged on the bed, clad in flannel. "When we get further south it'll be too warm for those," Ed said, pointing at his brother's nightclothes.

"But I like these pajamas," Al pronounced as he slid under the sheets.

"You just like the idea of pajamas," Ed retorted while he got in on his side.

"I like the reality of pajamas," Al lobbied back, grinning. "You should try them."

"I'll stick to my boxers, thanks."

They laughed and settled beneath the covers, and Ed shut off the lamp. Moonlight from the nearby window bathed them both in a pale, otherworldly light.

As Ed expected, Al shimmied over until his back rested against Ed's chest. Ed smiled in the semi-darkness, and he lifted his good hand to brush a lock of Al's hair away from his nose. It was surprisingly soft, and Ed ran his fingers through the shorn, tousled locks. "The lady in town did a nice job on your hair," he said. "You didn't want to wear a braid like me?"

"I like it short," Al replied. "Mmm, that feels nice."

Ed smiled again and continued to card through the short hairs at the nape of Al's neck, massaging gently with his fingertips.

"Mmm," Al repeated. "It feels so good to feel, you know? I think I like that best, even better than sleeping and eating and drinking. It's proof that I'm really here."

"I know what you mean," Ed replied with a chuckle. He let go of Al's hair, only to bury his face in the soft silky strands and breathe deeply. "I'm afraid I'm dreaming this, so I keep wanting to make sure you're real."

"I'm real," Al said softly.

Ed breathed again. "Yeah, I can smell your shampoo.' He draped his arm around his brother's waist and slipped his hand beneath Al's pajama top to rest against his chest. "I can feel your skin beneath my fingers, and your heart beating against my chest." He pressed a kiss against the sweaty skin of Al's neck. "I can even taste that almond soap you used when you took your shower." He took a lazy swipe with his tongue.

Al shuddered against him, and Ed grinned. It must have tickled; he forgot about tickling. He resolved to have a tickle fight in the morning.

"B-brother, there's s-something wrong with me!" Al gasped, and he clutched at Ed's arm through the fabric of his shirt.

Ed sat bolt upright, panic coursing through him. What was wrong? Was he going to lose Al? OhmygodIcan'tlosehim!"What? What is it?"

"There's something w-wrong with my dick!" Al's voice reflected his own panic. "It's all s-swollen and stiff!" He rolled onto his back, kicking down the sheets, and pointed a shaking finger at a prominent bulge in his pajama pants.

Heart hammering in his chest, Ed stared at the tented fabric. Then he burst out laughing.

"Brother! It's not funny!"

Ed collapsed on the mattress next to his brother. "I'm sorry, Al," he hiccuped.

"What's wrong with me?" Al's voice cracked with anger and fear.

"Calm down, it's okay," Ed said. "It's just an erection - a hard-on. Happens to guys all the time." He felt bad for laughing; he hadn't really realized that Before, Al had been too young to have them.

"I've heard that word." Al's eyebrows were drawn together in thought. "But when all the guys back in Central would talk about hard-ons, they were talking about pretty girls and sex."

"Guys get erections when they're sexually aroused." The implications of his own words caught up with him, and Ed groaned. "Oh, crap."

Al rolled onto his side to face him. "What?"

"This is my fault. Your body reacted to the way I was touching you. I'm sorry, Al, I didn't mean-"

"But I liked it." Al interrupted. "It feels good when you touch me, when you're close to me." He glanced down at himself. "So you're saying this is normal, but how do I get it to go away? It feels weird. And good. But weird."

You just-" Ed stopped himself. Just what? Jerk off? How do I explain that? He looked at his brother; even in the dim light he could see that Al's pupils were wide and dark, and he saw the shadow of a flush on Al's cheeks. "I'll show you how. Lay back down, like you were earlier."

Al complied, and Ed settled back down beside him, curled against Al's back. He took Al's hand and instructed, "Spit in your hand." Ed then slid Al's hand down beneath his pajamas to wrap around his erection. "Nice and slow," he whispered against Al's ear, and he covered Al's hand with his.

Up. Down.

"Ohhhhh," Al breathed.

Ed murmured encouragement and continued guiding his brother's hand. Al moaned, and when the sound traveled down to Ed's own dick he realized he'd made a grave mistake. He was getting hard. Ed decided to let Al continue on his own, and he let go of Al's hand.

No, wait." Al caught Ed's hand and pressed it against his erection. "I think I'd like it better this way," he said, moving Ed's hand along his length. "Oh yeah... much better."

Ed was doomed. "Oh god, Al," he panted against his brother's shoulder. Ed was achingly hard now, and he canted his hips against Al's flannel-covered ass.

"You've got one too." Al's voice was husky. "A hard-on. I can feel it."

"Y-yeah." Ed rocked his hips again, reveling in the delicious friction the movement caused.

"You're h-hard because of me?" His fingers tightened around Ed's hand.

Ed kissed the side of his brother's neck. "Yeah." A tiny voice in the back of Ed's brain protested that helping your brother jerk off was not acceptable brotherly behavior, and that getting hard while doing so was even worse. But Ed didn't care any more. All he cared about was the velvety feel of the hard length in his hand, the salty-sweet tang of sweat as he tasted Al's skin and the sound of Al's moans. "Al," he whispered.

Al arched back against him and cried out, and Ed shuddered and surrendered to his own climax. Ed wasn't sure how long they lay there, breathing in gasps and pants while they came down from the high of their orgasms. Ed reluctantly removed his hand and rolled onto his back, immediately missing the warmth of Al's body.

"I...oh...what was that?" Al was still trying to catch his breath. "That felt... wonderful."

"An orgasm," Ed replied, and his own voice was shaky. "You came."

"Did you... come too?"

God, yes. Harder than any time he'd pleasured himself. "Oh, yeah."

Al peered down at himself. "It's not hard anymore."

Ed laughed; he couldn't help himself. Soon Al was laughing too, and he reached over and twined his living fingers with Ed's automail ones. "That beats pie any day. Can I do that to you next time?"

Next time! The thought sparked a tingling warmth in his belly, and the reaction made Ed realize the enormity of what they had just done, what Al was talking about doing again. "Al," Ed said hesitantly, "we really shouldn't have done that. We're brothers, and brothers aren't supposed do that sort of thing with each other. It's wrong."

Al frowned. "Says who?"

"People. Society. God."

Al snorted. "I don't remember you ever caring about what people or society thought. Or anything about God." He rolled over and flung an arm across Ed's waist. "Why would that matter now? Besides, I can't imagine wanting anyone else to touch me like that."

"Al-"

"I don't want to imagine anyone else," Al insisted. "Do you?"

Ed looked over at him, and he shook his head. "No," he admitted.

Al shifted to rest his head on an automail shoulder. "It's always been just you and me against the world, anyway." He pressed his mouth to the scarred skin where metal met flesh.

Ed's breath hitched at the touch, and he closed his eyes when Al's hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers.

"Just you and me," Ed agreed, and he pulled Al close.