By the Book

by scribblemoose

"What're you doing?" Edward leaned into the doorframe with a yawn, peering at the unexpected form of Russell Tringham just inside the study door.

Russell looked up from the book he was reading. He blinked, eyes assaulted by the intense glare of the single spot lamp that lit the room, or at least the small portion of it he was sitting in. The rest of the study was cast in darkness.

"I could ask the same of you," Russell said, getting to his feet.

"Couldn't sleep. Came looking for a drink of water. Whatcha doing?"

"Nothing." The book was shut with a snap and would have been shoved straight back into the bookcase, but Ed's curiosity was too keen to allow that. He snatched it from Russell's fingers.

"You're studying, right? I do that when I can't sleep sometimes, especially when...." Ed's voice tailed off as he scanned the pages. "Biology?"

"Yes. I was just, it's an interest of mine and none of your business." Russell scowled at him and made an ineffective grab for the book.

But Ed wasn't listening. His frown deepened as he cast an expert eye down the contents page of the book. "Russell?"

"Would you like some bread and milk? It's supposed to help you sleep, the carbohydrate in the-"

"Sex?" said Edward.

"Pardon?" Russell flushed scarlet, his eyes like saucers.

"The book. It's about sex."

"Is it?" said Russell weakly. "I hadn't really got that far. That is, I didn't, I hadn't, you know, and shit, like I said, it's none of your business!" He snatched the book back from Ed and hid it behind his back.

Ed blinked at him. "Russell?"

"I'll get that bread and milk."

"Gah. What the fuck would any sane person want that for?"

"Oh, I forgot, you don't like milk. I could make toast?"

"A glass of water would be fine and I can get it myself."

"No, no, I'll get it. I'll be back in a minute."

Ed watched him rush off, and shrugged to himself. If Russell wanted to fetch and carry for him so much, who was he to argue?

Over the past few days since they'd destroyed the Red Water and the secret lab, Russell and Ed had begun to draw lines of truce between them. They had no choice, really: Alphonse and Fletcher got on like a house on fire and insisted on spending hours together here in the Tringham's newly-established study in Verico's house, doing research and practising alchemy. There wasn't a lab here yet but Ed was sure it would be only a matter of time. Russell had set about developing his talent for alchemy to help restore the land for the villagers to rebuild their livelihoods with the same determination he had once shown in continuing his father's work. Edward didn't know Russell very well, but the young man had already demonstrated that once Russell Tringham set his mind on something, he'd do his absolute best to see it through. Ed admired that about him, even if Russell had been pouring that resolution in the wrong direction for most of his young life. All that mattered now was that Russell's motives were good; Fletcher would keep him in line.

It hadn't been too hard, then, to accept the beginnings of friendship with Russell, and it turned out they had other things in common than a fiery temper and a tendency for persistence that bordered on compulsion. They liked the same music and shared a weakness for childish card games. They liked the same books, too.

Which reminded him.

Russell had left the book on a small table next to the chair he'd been sitting in, bathed in a pool of light.

Keeping one eye on the hallway for sight of Russell's return, Edward picked up the book and flicked through the pages. Once or twice he turned it sideways to look at the diagrams.

His eyes grew wider by the minute.

He jumped at the sound of the kitchen door clicking shut, and hastily replaced the book on the table, grabbing another from a nearby shelf. He did his best to look engrossed as Russell returned with a tray.

"I found some biscuits. You're in luck, usually Fletcher wolfs them all."

"Al was the same," said Ed, suddenly aware that he was holding the book upside-down. He popped it quickly back on the shelf, hoping Russell hadn't noticed. "When he used to, well, you know. Before the armour."

Russell put the tray down and passed Ed the biscuits.

They were good. Homemade with lemon and ginger.

"Did all these books belong to your father?" Ed asked between mouthfuls.

"Most of them. I added some as we continued his research."

"It's a good collection."

"Yes." But Russell seemed preoccupied, nibbling at a biscuit and glaring fiercely at the bookcase.

"I'm sorry," Ed said. "I'm intruding. Thanks for the biscuits, I'll go back to bed now and-"

"No, no, you weren't, that is, I mean..." Russell slumped hopelessly.

"It's okay. I'm sure to get back to sleep now. No problem." He patted Russell kindly on the shoulder.

"I'm so confused," Russell murmured. He wouldn't make eye contact, but something in his voice wrenched at Ed's heartstrings. The boy seemed deeply unhappy.

"Why? What's the matter?"

For one awful moment Ed thought Russell might be about to cry.

"You saw the book."

"Book? What book?"

"The book I was reading when you came in."

"Oh, that book. Well, yeah, I didn't really get a good look at it."

"You saw what it was about. Um."

"Sure. So?"

"I, that is..." Russell flailed helplessly, and all Ed could do was watch him struggle. He was completely out of his depth. This was a whole new side to Russell, a world away from the arrogant hothead he'd come to know and rather like. It was all very confusing. "It's n-not the kind of thing someone would n-normally be reading, right?" Russell stammered out.

"Sure, it's normal. Boys our age are supposed to be curious about sex. Don't tell Al this, but I once spent an afternoon in the library at Central going through the whole stack on reproduction and sexual behaviour. Mostly looking at the pictures."

"This is different. It's not just idle curiosity. It's... I needed to know."

"Needed to know what?"

"If I'm n-normal." Russell looked like he might be about to burst into tears.

This wasn't getting any less confusing. "Of course you're normal," Ed said, although he never really thought of himself as an authority on what was normal or otherwise.

"No, I mean..." Russell's hands clenched into tight fists and relaxed again. "It's all your fault," he blurted out.

"My fault? What have I done?!" Edward cried indignantly.

"You, I..."

Every part of Russell was screwed up tight and tense with anguish, and then all at once he let it go with a long, whooshing sigh. His shoulders slumped and his head drooped miserably. "I've been having thoughts," he muttered.

Ed tried to make sense of that and failed. His brain was trying to put two and two together and he wasn't sure he was ready for the answer. "What kind of thoughts?" he asked eventually.

"You'll think I'm sick. You'll hate me."

Definitely not ready. "Don't be an idiot."

"Men," Russell blurted. "I've been having men thoughts."

"That's not sick. It's to be expected, you are a man. Well, almost. A boy. What other kind of thoughts would you have?"

"No, no, not like that. I mean thinking about men. Um. Do you have any idea what I'm talking about?"

"Of course I do," said Edward irritably, heart thudding in his chest. "Attraction between men. Our teacher discussed it with us, there was a man in the village." Actually it had been a long rant after she'd witnessed an incident in the street that had left her fuming and yelling about intolerance for most of the evening. Al had been all for hiding until things quietened down a bit, but Ed had Asked Questions and received very graphic answers.

To this day he had a tendency to blush at the recollection. But he'd also derived a certain comfort from her words, although he'd never admit it to anyone.

"There's nothing wrong with it," Ed told Russell in what he hoped was a reassuring voice. "It happens in nature too. It's quite common, really."

"You wouldn't say that if you knew."

Russell stood there, chewing on his lower lip, fists clenched, face flushed, the picture of misery.

Ed's stomach fluttered and he couldn't think. This was all kinds of embarrassing, strange and he wanted nothing more than to flee to his bed and hide under the covers until morning.

Except...

"It's you," said Russell unhappily. "I'm attracted to you, Edward."

Ed just stared.

"See?" Russell hung his head. "Now you'll hate me forever. If you didn't already. I can't say I blame you."

"It's okay." Ed tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it. "Don't beat yourself up about it."

There was a long silence, during which Russell stared hot-faced at the floor, and Edward sorted through his feelings. He was feeling feelings, he was sure of it.

Working out what they were, however, was another matter entirely.

He noticed that Russell's shoulders were shaking. The light played on the soft downy hairs on his arms.

"I've wondered, sometimes," Ed ventured falteringly, "what it might be like."

Russell dared to look up. "Really?"

Ed shrugged. "Yeah."

"I thought I was the only one. That's why, the book. I thought if it said in there, you know, if people ever, other people, or maybe it's something that might pass in time..."

"It's not just you," said Ed, confidently. "For certain."

Relief washed the worst of the agony from Russell's expression. The blush remained.

"Why me?" said Ed.

"I don't know. You just..." Russell shrugged. "I can't help it." He sounded as though he would go to great lengths to make things otherwise if he could. Ed wasn't sure that that was entirely complimentary.

"It's no big deal." Ed feigned nonchalance.

"You don't mind? Oh God, Ed, this is horrible. Forget I ever said anything. Forget all of it." He was about to bolt from the room, but Ed flung out an arm and stopped him, fingers splayed flat on Russell's chest.

"Don't be a wuss. I said, it's no big deal."

Which was a lie, because Ed's heart was pounding harder than ever and his fingertips tingled where they made contact with the soft fabric of Russell's shirt.

"You're kind," Russell whispered.

He seemed very close all of a sudden, and annoyingly tall. Ed stood there with his hand on Russell's chest, metal fist clenched at his side, and tipped his head up to look at Russell's face. Russell stared down at him through that shock of thick blond hair and licked his lips.

"If you want..." Ed thought, or maybe said out loud, he wasn't sure, and then Russell kissed him.

It wasn't a particularly memorable first kiss. There was a lot of bumping noses and it was sort of wet and squishy and Ed was fairly sure they weren't doing right, or else what was all the fuss about? But he allowed it to continue nonetheless. His arm folded as Russell pressed closer, palm still flat against Russell's chest, and Russell wrapped an arm awkwardly around Ed's shoulders.

The kiss, such as it was, was over, and Ed and Russell looked each other in the eye.

Ed wasn't sure who laughed first, but it was probably Russell. He had that sort of infectious laugh. And Ed had to admit it was funny, in a desperate, near-hysterical sort of way.

"That wasn't quite..." Russell gasped.

"No," Ed agreed. His laughter subsided to a grin. "We could try again."

Russell grinned back. It dimpled his cheek when he grinned, making him look distinctly wicked.

"Okay," Russell said.

They moved in for a second attempt, noses bumping straight away.

"Hang on," Edward said. "Tip your head that way..." He took Russell's head in both hands to tilt it to the right angle. "Now open your mouth, just a bit."

Russell obediently parted his lips. Ed took a deep breath and pressed his mouth to Russell's. Better. Much better. It was annoying that he had to stand on tiptoe, but otherwise, not bad at all.

He threaded his fingers through Russell's hair and kept kissing. Russell was responding nicely now, moving his mouth slowly in time with Ed's, his arm relaxing as it looped possessively around Ed's neck.

"Oh," Ed whispered, when they finally came up for air.

"Mmm," said Russell.

Suddenly the kissing wasn't a problem; not kissing was a problem. Ed had no idea what to do between kisses; the embarrassment and anxiety seemed to flood back as soon as they'd got their breath back. Questions suddenly leapt to the front of his mind and demanded to be answered.

He kissed Russell again. Much better. The worry faded, his head felt fuzzy, his heart pounded and his cock...

It was doing amazing things to his cock.

The next time they paused Russell filled the silence straight away, leaning his forehead on Ed's, his breath short. "Are you sure you've never done that before?"

His lips were wet. Ed wanted to lick them.

"Positive. I'd have remembered." He moved in to carry on kissing, but Russell ducked back.

"The couch, maybe? My legs are kind of tired."

"Couch?" Ed followed the direction of Russell's gaze and located a battered leather sofa in one shadowy corner of the room. "Oh, that couch."

"Might be a bit more comfortable, if you want to, I mean that is unless you want to stop."

"I don't want to stop." Ed's voice came out as a growl. Russell smiled, his dimples appearing again.

"Couch, then." He took Ed's hand and led him to the relative comfort of creaky leather and a few overstuffed cushions.

They sat side by side, and after a short struggle about whose arms went where they found the fit of each others' bodies and got back to kissing. Rapidly gaining confidence, Ed ventured his tongue between Russell's lips. Russell made a strangled groaning noise in the back of his throat, which Ed chose to take as a good sign.

Russell flicked his own tongue against Ed's teeth and wormed it into his mouth. Ed buried his fingers a little deeper in Russell's hair and took things up a notch, kissing harder, faster, tongue getting more adventurous by the second, exploring the inside of Russell's mouth before settling to a rhythmic slide against Russell's own tongue, back and forth, back and forth...

Ed's whole body sang with pleasure and he didn't want to stop. Ever.

"You're sure... this.... isn't... wrong?" Russell panted.

"Does it feel wrong?" muttered Ed.

"Mmnghff," said Russell as Ed claimed his mouth again. He seemed convinced; his hand wriggled its way inside Ed's shirt and up his back. His fingers were warm and soft, hesitant as they explored the sensitive dips and ridges of Edward's spine.

Ed fumbled to return the favour; Russell's shirt proved resistant. It had long tails and was fixed firmly in place by his braces and the snug fit of his trousers. In the end Ed resorted to popping open the buttons and stroking Russell's chest instead.

It was smooth and Russell's nipple wrinkled to hardness at the slightest touch of Ed's inquisitive fingers.

"I didn't know that worked for boys," Russell gasped.

"Seems to," said Ed, and then, after further thought, "it works with girls? I mean, I know, theoretically, but... have you? With a girl?"

Russell shook his head. "You?"

"No. I mean, not that I don't like girls, just there's never time and, y'know."

Russell probably didn't, but he nodded anyway. "I almost kissed a girl once. It was okay. I think."

"How do you almost kiss someone?" asked Ed, perplexed.

"We were dancing and her mouth sort of brushed against mine. I suppose it was a kiss. But it wasn't like just now."

The dimples appeared again. Ed felt unaccountably smug.

"That's nice," said Russell, and Ed realised he was rubbing Russell's chest, just gently in little circles.

Russell tugged on the hem of Ed's shirt. "I want to, um, can I?"

"Sure, knock yourself out." Ed reached his arms up to make it easier for Russell to pull the shirt off.

Ed held his breath for a moment, suddenly and acutely aware of his automail arm and shoulder. Russell's eyes were inevitably drawn to the join, the scars, and with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach Ed braced himself for rejection.

"It's awesome," Russell said. "It fits so well. A friend of my father's had automail but it was nothing like yours."

"I have the best engineer in the world." Ed made a mental note to pass the compliment to Winry next time he needed to get her in a really good mood. Although it could be tricky to explain how the topic had come up.

"Does this feel good?" Russell trailed his fingers over the curve of Ed's metal shoulder and along his arm to his elbow.

Ed swallowed hard. "Yes," he said, and it did, maybe not the way Russell meant but the willing acceptance, the excitement and the affection with which he touched him made him feel very good indeed.

"The automail fingertips are amazing," Ed said softly. "Have to be, or the thing wouldn't really work. It's amazing, the things you need touch for. I don't know how Al...."

His voice tailed off as Russell picked up his hand and he very gently kissed each of his fingers, one by one, and the thumb.

Then Russell laughed. "I'm sorry. You must think I'm such a dork. Or a pervert. Oh shit, you don't think I'm a pervert, do you? It's not like that, it's just..."

Ed shrugged. "'s okay."

"I wanted to-" tried Russell, flailing somewhat.

"It's nice," Ed reassured him. "It's good that it doesn't, you know, bother you or anything."

"Of course it doesn't." Russell moved a little closer. "It's part of who you are. They say," he hesitated for a moment," they say it hurts a lot. Does it?"

"Yes."

"All the time?" Russell looked awed.

"No, only when it's fitted, really. Sometimes when it's adjusted, or if it gets hit out of whack, but mostly..." Edward looked away. It hurt like fuck, it made him scream and cry like a baby when they put it on and he really didn't want to talk about it. But he did like the way Russell was touching him. Careful fingers trailed the outline of each plate and screw as if they were muscle and skin.

"One day I'll get my real arm and leg back."

"I can't imagine it. This is you, somehow."

Ed wasn't sure whether he liked that or not, and he rather wished they could get back to the kissing, but he couldn't think how to make that happen without seeming rude. He was suddenly and fiercely aware that he was out of his depth. He didn't like it at all.

"Sorry," Russell said. "Did I freak you out?"

"No, of course not," said Ed, too stridently. "But I think you should get your shirt off too. Fair's fair."

To Ed's relief Russell responded with a little smile, and shrugged his braces over his shoulders, then got to work on his buttons. The body that emerged from the crisp white shirt was lean and boyish, but with broad, well-muscled shoulders and arms. His skin was paler than Ed's, the dusting of hair even blonder. His nipples were pink and stiff, and Ed found he really, really wanted to touch them.

"That's better," Ed said with an approving nod.

Russell reached out to touch him again, and this time Ed reciprocated. They kissed again, eyes shut, fingers cautiously exploring each others' skin.

After a little while, Russell whispered: "Ed?"

Ed's eyes fluttered open. His brain had gone fuzzy and he felt very hot all of a sudden. "Huh?"

"That book?"

"Yeah? what about it?" Seeing as Russell seemed determined to use his mouth for talking, Ed kissed his neck instead. It was soft and warm. Mmm.

"Some of the things in it looked a bit... painful."

"I guess."

"But I still want to do them," Russell confessed, arching his neck to give Ed better access to the smooth skin on his throat.

"Uh... what things, exactly?"

The flesh under Ed's lips flushed scarlet. "Um... things. You know. Oh God. Oh God, I'm a total pervert. There's no hope for me. I'm going straight to Hell and-"

"Stop it." Ed raised his head. "You're not the only one, okay? I've thought about those things too. It's not wrong. Monkeys do it, penguins do it, fucking Colonels in the military do it and don't ask how I know that." Now it was Ed's turn to blush fiercely at the memory of opening a door to a stationery cupboard he really wished he'd never looked in. He shook his head as if to cast the vision aside. "It's okay, Russ. This is just you and me. If you want to do stuff let's do stuff."

"Yeah?"

"So long as it doesn't actually hurt," Ed added hastily.

"Okay."

Ed turned his attention back to Russell's neck, nibbling and sucking at the smooth, warm skin. Mmmmm.

Then Russell leaned back, moving away from the caress. "I just...."

"What?" said Ed, exasperated. "Am I doing it wrong? You liked it a minute ago."

"No! No, it's nice, it's just..."

"You're not still worrying about that stupid book, are you?"

Russell's eyes flashed. "No, of course not. Don't be absurd."

Ed folded his arms across his chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, alright." Russell slumped unhappily, surrendering under Ed's knowing gaze. "It's just the thing. You know."

"What thing, exactly?"

"The, um, act."

Edward decided that the time for plain speaking had come. "Fucking?"

Russell winced. "Um. Yes."

"What about it?"

"It looks complicated and painful and even though I want it I mean I want it like crazy but I don't know how and the book's no help really and and..." Russell finally drew breath then wilted, chin to his chest, staring at his hands folded in his lap. "I'm scared."

"Scared it'll hurt?"

"Scared I'll be rubbish at it."

"Oh." Ed thought for a moment, then gave Russell a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Well, there's no need to worry. We don't have to fuck."

"We don't?"

"I haven't done it before either, you know. When I do I want to do it right, and this is all so weird and sudden. We don't have to do it tonight. We've got plenty to be going on with, don't you think?"

There was no disguising the relief on Russell's face.

"I'll fuck you some other time," Ed said with a grin.

"You'll fuck me? Oh! I..." Russell's eyes went wide.

"Yeah. Some other time." And Ed set about distracting him with more kissing before he could start an argument about it. "Can we get on with it now?" He pushed at Russell's shoulders in an attempt to get him to lay back, but he went too fast and Russell ended up yelping and swearing as his spine twisted uncomfortably.

"Ow!"

"Sorry. You okay?"

Russell wiggled about until his hips were facing the same way as the rest of him, tugging Edward down on top of him in the process. Then all at once it seemed different. Ed was lying between Russell's legs, his weight supported by hands planted by Russell's shoulders. He looked down at Russell, his gaze flickering from his eyes to his mouth and back again. He swallowed hard and licked his lips.

His hips wanted to move. He wanted to grind and push and oh God, he wanted...

"Oh," said Russell in a strangled sort of voice.

Ed couldn't agree more.

He adjusted his balance a bit, and was about to move when he felt Russell buck underneath him. Just a little at first. But enough to send a lick of fire through Ed's cock and straight up his spine. Russell did it again. The third time Ed shoved back, and after that there was no stopping either of them.

Ed lowered himself to his forearms so he could kiss Russell's mouth. Claiming him with a surging, tongue-led kiss that matched the rhythm of their grinding hips. Russell moaned, his fingers tangling in Ed's hair as he gave his plait a tug. "I want to touch you," Russell whispered. "May I touch you?"

Ed nodded, speechless, eyes wide. Russell's hand slipped between them, cupped Ed's erection through his leather trousers and squeezed.

Ed yelped.

"Sorry!" Russell cried, snatching his hand back as if he'd been burned.

"It's okay, really, it was just a bit sudden."

"Sorry, I didn't think." Russell sounded wretched.

"It's okay." Ed gave a reassuring little grind of his hips. Russell seemed to like that. It made him bite his lower lip and his dimples showed. "Try it again. Just go slow."

Ed rocked back a bit, giving Russell room to explore. This time he was cautious, tracing the outline of Ed's belt buckle with a single finger, trailing down to the zip and back up again to find the tab. As he slowly tugged the zipper down Ed got impatient, and reached down himself to flip the buckle and undo the button underneath.

Russell gasped and Ed remembered, too late, that he wasn't wearing anything underneath the leather.

Well, he'd only come downstairs for a glass of water. If he'd known he was going to end up having gay sex with Russell Tringham he would have dressed better. Or at least more thoroughly. It was pure luck he'd had a shower earlier.

"Sorry," he said.

"What for?"

"I usually wear boxers."

"There's nothing wrong with boxers."

"No, I mean I'm sorry I'm not wearing them."

Russell blinked at him in confusion. "I'm not," he said carefully, half convinced it was some kind of trick question.

"Oh, good. That's alright then."

Russell gave him an odd sort of look. "You're sure this is okay?"

Ed nodded.

Russell's fingers were warm and timid as they slid into Ed's trousers. His cock sprang up as it was freed from the leather, eager for attention and Ed gasped as Russell touched it. His cock twitched.

Russell jumped in surprise and snatched back his hand, reducing both of them to giggles.

"Sorry," Russell said, and slipped his hand back again, not stopping this time but curling his fingers around the stiff shaft and giving it an experimental squeeze.

"I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing," he confessed.

"Well, you, um, do yourself, right?" Ed struggled to keep his voice steady, because God, but it felt incredible to be touched and damn, but he was hard, and fuck, but it wasn't quite, but... and... but...

"Yeah, said Russell. "But it feels different."

"A bit firmer," said Ed, his hips rocking completely of their own volition. "Hold it a bit firmer and move your hand up and down... oh God." He dropped his head to Russell's shoulder, his breath suddenly short. "Fuck, that's amazing."

Encouraged, Russell kissed Ed's hair and kept going, settling into a firm, steady rhythm that felt so good Ed wanted to scream.

"I should..." Ed mumbled, dimly aware that this was a bit one-sided. He wriggled his hand around between them to squeeze Russell's thigh, then worked his way up, pausing at his hip and lingering there for a while because the thing Russell was doing with his fingertips at the root of Ed's cock was just too damn good.

Russell was smiling - he looked a little smug, truth be told - and Ed was aching, and then he was close, very close, and Russell must have known because he sped up, nibbling his lower lip in concentration as he watched his own hand fly over Ed's erection.

It was too much. Ed came messily all over Russell's hand, his own belly and Russell's clothing, and he thought for a moment he was never going to stop coming. Russell kept pumping and it felt so wicked-delicious, another person's hand on his cock, warm and slick with come, the rhythm close enough but just the tiniest bit off just the same, giving everything a raw edge that was just about getting unbearable, almost, not quite, almost...

Ed's head dropped to Russell's shoulder, his cock gave one last feeble dry-throb and finally Russell stopped.

"I'll do it for you," Ed panted through deep, shuddering breaths. "Just give me a minute."

"Um, that's fine," said Russell. Ed felt hesitant fingers stroke through his hair. "No rush."

"Hngh." Ed nuzzled at Russell's shoulder and finally let himself relax into his arms.

It felt warm and right, and suddenly Ed was very, very sleepy.

"Was it okay?" Russell asked, stroking the hair back from Ed's face.

Ed could only look up and smile.

Russell smiled back. "Really?"

"Oh yeah," Ed managed. His mind was clearing a bit; he yawned and swept his hand along Russell's thigh, on his way to pay back the favour. But to his surprise, Russell grasped his wrist and stopped him.

"What's up?" Ed said, blinking in confusion.

Russell wouldn't look him in the eye, and pushed his hand away. "It's, um, too late. I had a, ah."

Russell was blushing. Ed's eyes went wide. "You came?!"

The blush deepened from pink to scarlet and Russell tried to pull away.

"It's okay! Don't be, it's okay, really!" But Russell looked so horribly embarrassed, and he wasn't listening.

All the peace and rightness that Edward had enjoyed was shattering in front of him, and Russell was trying to run away. Ed did the only thing he could think of.

He grabbed Russell, shoved him back hard into the sofa and kissed him.

Russell flailed a bit, but on the whole he was easily subdued and soon wrapped his arms around Ed's shoulders and started kissing back.

Ed let out a little sigh of relief. "Okay?"

"Yeah. This is even more fun than kicking your arse," Russell said, his words humming against Ed's lips, making them tingle.

"You were not, nor have you ever been, kicking my arse," Ed said firmly.

"Oh yeah?" Russell's eyes were closed, long lashes fluttering against Ed's cheek as he dropped kisses over his nose and the corners of his mouth. "You were covered in bruises, remember?"

"So were you."

"I am bigger than you. I mean, taller."

"Shut the fuck up!" Ed surged up and threw himself over Russell, straddling his hips. "Who are you calling so short he can be beaten up by a virgin?!"

"That's low," said Russell, but he was still smiling.

Ed leaned forwards and shoved the hair back out of Russell's eyes. He had beautiful eyes, flecks of blue and purple in grey, framed with dark blond lashes. They held an integrity that ran deep inside. Odd, since Russell had in fact proved himself a liar, but Edward understood that conflict. Russell might not always tell the truth, but he lied for the right reasons, to protect himself and his brother, to save a village.

He kissed Russell's lips, just his lips, the corners and the middle and just the bottom one and just the top one, and slipped his tongue between them to find Russell's. Russell made a soft moaning sound deep in his throat and sort of melted back into the old leather couch. He fumbled to untie Ed's hair, sifting his fingers through it to release the braid. Ed leaned forwards again and found his freshly-stiffened cock pressing neatly against Russell's. He wriggled a little bit and Russell gasped.

"This would feel..." Edward kissed Russell's neck and nuzzled his ear, "... better with less clothes. Your buttons are hard."

"Ungh," Russell replied, as Ed wriggled again. "Alright." A kiss to Ed's temple. "I will if you will."

His hand cupped Ed's ass. He squeezed. It was an oddly possessive gesture that Ed was surprised to discover he rather liked.

"I'll have to get off you. Don't go anywhere."

"Actually, I...." Russell propped himself up on his elbows. "Isn't it a bit risky? What if someone comes?"

Ed grinned. "Isn't that the idea?"

Russell returned the grin. "No, idiot, I mean what if Fletcher or Al were to come downstairs like you did?"

Edward considered this possibility. He had to admit that Russell had a point. Al didn't sleep and eventually he'd probably wonder where Ed had got to. "Perhaps we should go to your room," he suggested.

"I share with Fletch."

"Oh."

"He's scared of the dark." There was a soft edge to Russell's voice that struck home to Edward.

"With Al it's strange noises. Creaks and shit."

They shared a brief glance of recognition before returning to the problem at hand.

"I'll lock the door," said Ed. "Wait there a minute."

He hopped off the couch and crossed to the door, taking a moment to listen for any signs of waking life elsewhere in the house. There were none, just a soft snore that he guessed came from Verico and the normal night-time house noises. He shut the door as quietly as he could, and locked it with a clap and a fizz. "There."

"But if Alphonse or Fletcher come looking..."

"We'll have enough time to think of something. Okay, is there anything else you're worried about? Because if you don't want to do this you've only got to..."

"No, nothing else," Russell said quickly. "I'd really like to see you naked."

Russell putting it that way made Ed instantly self-conscious. He'd been thinking more about doing than looking. He just wanted to feel Russell's bare skin pressing against his own, never mind the aesthetics of the thing.

"Are you shy?" said Russell, with a smirk.

"Don't be an idiot," said Ed, fumbling with his belt, his hands shaking more than he would ever admit. "Come on, you too. Fair exchange, remember?"

Russell shrugged his shoulders and sat up to undo his shoes.

This was a wise move, as Ed discovered when he suddenly found himself grappling with trousers and boots all at once in a tangle of squeaking leather. He finally lost his balance and collapsed back onto the sofa, cursing and cringing with irritation and embarrassment.

Russell laughed at him, which Ed thought a little unfriendly in the circumstances.

"Shut up," Ed muttered, tugging at the offending boots.

"Don't take yourself so seriously."

Ed turned angrily to yell something back, but found himself rendered speechless by the sight of Russell, naked, pink and smiling almost-coyly, hugging his knees to his chest. He wiggled his toes.

Ed's trousers slithered to the floor, catching only slightly on his automail as he kicked them off his feet. He couldn't take his eyes off Russell; he devoured the sight of him hungrily. Totally unable to not look.

"You're..." Ed couldn't find any words that didn't sound stupid, so he kissed Russell's elbow instead, of all things, and then his shoulder, and then Russell opened his arms and Ed sank into them, kissing him full on the mouth and wriggling his way between Russell's parted knees.

Ed lost himself in new sensations: Russell's skin was warm and smooth; his nipples were stiff and tasted clean and slightly salty; his belly quivered as Ed ran the back of his hand across it. Their kisses were hungry and left them both panting.

"It's okay," Russell gasped. "You don't have to be careful."

It took Ed a moment to work out what he meant. Then Russell tugged on his automail arm and Ed realised he was holding himself awkwardly to one side, anxious to keep the metal parts of himself out of the way.

"It's still you," Russell said, and kissed Ed's shoulder plate, licked down towards the port, swirled circles over the shoulder and down the arm. Ed watched, too choked to say anything, not even sure, really, what he felt. It was overwhelming and so sudden, to finding himself naked, fooling around... no, making love with another boy, with Russell, and as if that wasn't enough for him to deal with, Russell was lavishing affection on his automail.

He'd only come down for a glass of water.

"Ed?" said Russell, concerned.

Ed smiled weakly. "I've never seen anyone lick automail before," he said. "Except Winry."

"Who's Winry?"

"She's my mechanic. She made this."

"Oh." Russell's shoulders stiffened for some reason. "Have you known her long?"

"All my life." The wicked streak that ran through Ed like a seam of gold tempted him to tease, but Russell had a tendency to take things too seriously, and anyway Ed wasn't feeling too sure of himself just now. "She's like a sister to us. A real tomboy, you know? And the best automail mechanic in the whole fucking world."

"And she licks your automail?"

"Not mine, no. At least not that I've ever noticed. It was in a shop in Central. Very embarrassing."

Russell grinned. "I can imagine."

Ed kissed Russell's neck and rocked into his body, seeking reassurance. The air was cool and Russell's warmth and strength felt nice.

"Can you feel it?" Russell said.

"Feel what?"

"The automail. When I touch it, can you feel it? Wherever I touch it, or just in some places?"

"Pretty much all over." Ed flexed his arm, clenched the fist then opened it again. Russell stretched up his arm and twined his fingers with Ed's automail ones. "That's part of the skill of automail surgery, is to connect the nerves just right so you can pick up all the signals from the sensors. There's more sensors in some places than others." Ed stared at their locked hands. It looked and felt weird and yet totally right.

"Just like a real arm." A devilish look appeared in Russell's eyes. "Can it tickle?"

"No-one's ever tried," said Ed, in a tone that was supposed to imply that Russell would be most unwise to buck the trend. But Russell was unintimidated.

Ed squeaked and dodged his fingers. Just.

"Do you want to have sex or get your arse kicked?" he snapped. "Because it could go either way here, you know!"

"Sex, please," said Russell, and had the audacity to slap Ed's bare ass.

Before Ed could draw breath to protest at this fresh outrage, however, Russell was kissing him, his tongue plunging into Ed's mouth, and the smack had turned into a soothing, circular caress. Edward found himself squirming and groaning in Russell's arms.

"Oh God," moaned Russell. "That feels so good."

Ed savoured a little smug feeling at the thought that he'd still got the upper hand, even when Russell could distract him so readily. Ed was on top, and he suspected that he knew more about this than Russell, too. Probably. Possibly.

He reached between their bodies and tugged Russell's cock so it lay alongside his own. The feeling of hard, silky flesh nestling against his dick was delicious. Ed rocked his hips experimentally. Russell gasped.

"Good, huh?" said Ed.

Russell nodded and bit his lower lip. Ed carried on rocking in a slow, strong rhythm, swinging his hips easily back and forth. After a bit Russell joined in, grinding into Ed's cock and belly and the curve of his hip.

"I could come like this," Ed observed in awe and wonder. "Could you?"

"Oh yeah," gasped Russell. "Quite soon, actually."

Ed tossed his head back and thrust a little harder.

"It's called frottage," Russell said, unable even at a time like this to resist scoring points.

"I knew that," Ed lied. But Russell was suddenly beyond caring. His fingers clenched in Ed's hair, his hips surged upwards and he cried out, breath coming in sort, hitched gasps.

Ed watched transfixed as wet heat pulsed between their bodies, all over his belly and cock. They both kept grinding, revelling in sticky warmth.

Russell grunted out every spurt, his head thrown back, silky blond hair streaming from his flushed face, eyes gleaming with heat and pleasure, his whole body undulating. Suddenly Edward wanted to do every single one of those things in the book to Russell. Plus one or two that he'd made up himself.

"Need a hand?" Russell said, eyes hooded, reaching down for Ed's cock without waiting for an answer. "Mmm... so hard...."

Ed really liked this wanton, glazed-looking Russell. he didn't talk back as much and his main goal in life seemed to be to make Ed feel amazingly good.

Ed liked it a lot.

"I know," Russell murmured, and paused to coat his palm with his own come. Ed watched, wondering vaguely what he was doing and why, and then his cock was surging into Russell's fist again and this time it was slick and sticky and just the thought of what Russell was doing, just did, was enough to send Ed right to the edge.

"God, Russell, I'm...." was all he could manage before his cock erupted, sending deep throbbing waves through his whole body.

He kept his eyes on Russell all the while as he rode the wave, right until the final shudders which left him suddenly, pleasantly and completely exhausted.

"I..." Russell broke into a fit of giggles, out of surprise or embarrassment or hysterical pleasure, Ed couldn't be sure which. "I had no idea it could be like that."

"Me neither," said Ed with a smug little grin.

"Much better than...."

"Definitely." Ed yawned. Couldn't help it. "Sleepy."

The giggles faded. "Oh. I guess we should go to bed."

"In a minute, maybe." Truth be told, Ed didn't want to move anywhere. He wasn't even sure that he could. His body was suffused with exhausted well-being, and he was comfortable. The following day he and Al would catch a train out of Xenotime and who knew when he'd see Russell again. He intended on making the most of this unexpected opportunity while he still could.

"Budge over a bit," he said. "I want to lie down and I'll crush you."

"Crush me?!" Russell snorted. "A tiny thing like you?"

"Who are you calling so small that they... I.... you..."

Ed glared at Russell, suddenly and annoyingly out of words. Russell just grinned back with an irritatingly amused expression on his face.

"Fuck off," said Edward, and snuggled grudgingly into the gap Russell made for him.

Ed found himself wedged comfortably between the leather back of the sofa and Russell's warm body; Russell's arm crept around his shoulder to hold him.

It felt easy and right, to lay his leg over Russell's, to rest his arm across Russell's chest. It felt comfortable, and nice, and Ed could almost have gone to sleep.

"Are you cold?" Russell said softly.

"No."

"You're shivering."

"I'm not."

"There's a blanket over there on the chair."

"I'll get it in a minute. Just.... in a minute."

Russell smiled to himself.

"I feel different," Russell said a little while later.

"Yeah?"

"Sort of... grown up."

Ed supposed it was true, this was a rite of passage moment after all. But he didn't feel so very different himself. Maybe it just hadn't sunk in yet. It was entirely possible he was in shock.

"It was nothing like I expected," Russell said. "Was it for you?"

"I didn't really expect anything," Ed confessed. "It wasn't something I'd thought about much."

"Liar. Everyone has fantasies."

"Fantasies aren't the same as expectations," Ed said stubbornly. And then, after a pause: "So, what did you expect?"

"I don't know, something... just... I mean, I thought it would be good, but," he dropped a kiss to Ed's hair. "That was fantastic."

Ed smiled a slow, lazy, very smug smile.

"Less grunting than I thought," Russell continued. "More touching and you were just...." Russell kissed his hair again and shivered. "Incredible."

"Fuck off." Ed playfully smacked Russell's thigh.

"Ow. You're so violent."

"There speaks the idiot who nearly broke my jaw the first time we met."

"I was provoked."

"You were totally in the wrong."

"You were breaking and entering."

"You were impersonating me!" Ed shrieked.

"Shh. You'll wake everyone."

There was a pause.

"You should have ducked," Russell said.

"That's not the point. Look, I think we're matched when it comes to violent tendencies, okay?"

Russell reluctantly agreed.

"I'm just stronger, is all," said Ed with a wicked grin.

Russell made a strangled sort of noise that sounded a bit like 'shortarse', but Ed chose to ignore it.

Ed yawned.

"D'you want to go back to bed?" Russell asked.

"No," said Ed. "This is good."

Russell gave him a brief, shy hug.

"Yeah."

"Seems a pity," said Ed. "Me and Al will be gone tomorrow."

"Yeah."

"Don't know how long it'll be before we come back this way."

"You could stay a bit longer. Just another night?"

"No." The warmth of Russell's body was good and Ed was tempted, God he was tempted. But he had no choice. Whatever friendship - or anything else - he might find with Russell, Al always, always came first.

"It's okay," Russell said. "I understand."

Ed kissed his neck.

They lay in silence for a while. Then Russell rolled off the couch and snagged the blanket, spreading it over them both and tucking it gently around Ed's body. Ed snuggled into Russell's body, his cheek resting on Russell's chest, Russell gently stroking his shoulder.

It was just as well it was only one night. This was a feeling that Ed could get used to very, very quickly. And it wasn't the sort of feeling that helped him to keep moving. Not at all.

He'd miss it. Even after just one night.

"Hey, Russ," Ed said, sleepily.

"Mmm?"

"Write me sometimes, 'kay?"

Russell gave his shoulder a squeeze, and nuzzled into his hair.

"You can count on it," he said.

~owari~

Winner of Honourable Mention in 2006 Boys Next Door fiction contest.

Illustration by PL Nunn