Beautiful Tonight
A Fullmetal Alchemist One-Shot By SeeInBlackAndWhite
(Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to someone else entirely, the author and creators to be exact, I'm only writing fan fiction, henceforth I don't own anything.)
Edward's sad tonight, another guilty moment where memories plague him and his automail aches and all he wants is to feel human, he needs someone to ground him, keep him anchored to what humanity he has. These nights he doesn't smile, he doesn't want the sweet comfort of an arm around his broad, world-bearing shoulders. His touch isn't gentle, there is no tenderness in his caress, any love has left his lips that now leave only fierce self-loathing kisses coupled with bruising bites. Tears well in the corners of his eyes when it isn't worth the effort to blink them away. Sounds that should be pleasure ridden come out as dry sobs. His fingernails gouge a little too hard, blood surfaces in red pearls marring porcelain skin. Still he says nothing but his swimming gold eyes apologize, they remain sad and I wonder if it's me his remorse is for or an other-worldly doppelganger. He disconnects our gaze; it's much too intimate for what he wants. He's angry, sad, his friends are pain, anguish, judgment, regret, and me. But I don't think he even sees me on nights like this, I'm background noise, a dream, even a nightmare that he can't wake from.
Slowly he rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself to hands and knees. He wants me to fuck him, to fill him and tear him apart. I have no desire to hurt him but he looks over his shoulder and he needs it, pain to feel human, it's ironic, isn't it? He's vulnerable, strong but weak, a controversy of smooth delicate features, soft flesh, satin skin and wide scars that are much deeper than they appear, hard muscle and calloused knuckles. Sorrow ruins some faces, anger kills the fluid beauty of some people's movement but as I enter him harshly and he cries out, a piteous, lost noise I know he will always be beautiful, despite the terrors that rip his past into dingy immeasurable shreds. Salty diamonds fall freely now, leaving stains almost indecipherable from the tracks of sweat they roll through. "Don't treat me like fucking glass. I'm not going to break." His words are vulgar, but I understand. He's still exposed, almost helpless but he doesn't need compassion, only passion. I oblige his request, this is for his contact, I'm fulfilling his desire. The change in force brings his weight to his forearms, he's truly sobbing now, fingers clutching the bed sheets like a lifeline, I don't know why he like this. I know it hurts him, sometimes he bleed, sometimes he screams. But to him it's no more than pinching his arm to see if he's asleep, and maybe wake him up if he is.
He truly is beautiful as he bows his head as though in shame, long hair tumbles over his shoulders, one flushed with a speeding pulse the other artificial and unfeeling; maybe he does feel shame. Just another sin in his book, one more mark against him. He'll come soon, I know, so will I. Not because we're really feeling pleasure, but because the body is programmed that way, instinct, a primal urge that is uncontrollable. But despite the tone it feels good, his body's warm and mine's still young, too, and he's beautiful.
His orgasm hits in a shuddering wave, triggering my own. My spine melts into nothing and my sight goes blank; I'm not blinded because that is saved for nights of true feeling, when we're like lovers. Tonight, Edward collapses onto the bed, his small body still wracked with despair and I remember the urge to protect him. I pull from him, tonight there's no blood; I'm glad, cleansing his blood from my flesh feels like the worst of sins. When my weight leaves him he curls into a tiny ball, rejecting the comfort I offer anyway. I love him. "Are you alright?" A pointless question, yes, but it gets him to look at me again, there's a small unhappy smile on his lips.
"I know its weird Alfons, thank you," He says and it's almost worth it to kiss his sticky forehead and see him smile for real. "I know I don't have any right to ask you to do this. Why do you let me?" His empurpled lips frown at my chest; it has shallow trenches marked with long dried blood. I shake my head, I hate to see him frown, but I don't know why I let him. "I'm sorry."
A smile, "Don't be sorry, I love you Edward." It's the best reason I can think of, and more than likely the truth. He laughs humorlessly.
"I don't see why," he scoffs but pulls me down to lay with him, now tenderness is okay. I love the way he feels wrapped in my arms. Maybe he doesn't love me, maybe I am just a dream to him or him a dream to me but I'd give my life for this dream. He's warm against my chest; I can feel his heartbeat slowing some. He isn't whole, but he isn't broken, tonight, he's beautiful.
A/N: Not a style I've ever tried before, but I hope you enjoyed it and any feedback on the quality would be dearly welcomed.
Many thanks, SeeInBlackAndWhite.