Title: For Love of an Angel

Fandom: FMA

Pairings: Elricest

Rating: NC 17
Warnings: Incest, yaoi

Author's Notes: Believe it or not, when I started writing this story, it was not only my very first FMA story, it was my first fanfiction. But as I wrote more and more FMA stories back in Tennessee, I added here and there to this. It remained only partially finished until now, when I have added a bit more and polished it up. Hopefully my muse will not fail me and this will not suffer any year long blocks. Heh.

Disclaimer: I neither own, not claim the fandom FMA, or any of its characters or settings, nor do I seek to any material gain. I only want to continue to be a review ho… boy oh boy! Or is that boy on boy?

Summary: From the moment Al entered into Ed's life on the day of his birth, he'd been his older brother's Angel. Now they have grown, and Al is till, and always will be, Ed's Angel.

Chapter One

In the Beginning

One could say that Edward and Alphonse Elric were meant for each other since the days they were born. The only two children born to Tricia and Hohenheim Elric, and other than the little girl down the road, Winry Rockbell, they lived alone in a little town called Resembool on the far eastern frontier. From the time that they were little boys, they were always together. In other families, there would be sibling rivalries and squabbles, and in many respects, this was true of the Elric household. But the only rivalries between the two boys were their way of making themselves look at each other. And the squabbles were their way of knocking the edges off so that in the future they would fit more seamlessly together. For Ed, from the moment their mother first held the newborn Alphonse in her arms, he thought there had never been a more perfect person in the world. As he watched his little brother grow, he was astonished time and again of the utter perfection in Al, his sweetness, his kindness, his gentleness. He yearned to protect and watch over his little brother, and he always did. As for Al, he had thought there never was a more beautiful person than Edward. There was something so utterly gorgeous about those golden feline eyes, that glorious sunshine hair, that tawny body, always in graceful and dynamic motion. And all that beauty rested over a core of solid steel. Ed was brash, he was heedless, he was thoughtless, he was rash. He was argumentative and hotheaded and usually irascible. But not with Al. With Al he was tender and gentle and soft as silk.

As for the Rockbell girl, Tricia would tease about which one of the boys would marry her. In her heart of hearts, she always thought it would be Ed, for he was the more outgoing of the two, but Ed had no interest in her other than friendship. Although this was normal for a young boy like Ed, it was something that would never change, even long after his body did. And Al… Al, in his soft and tender heart, knew almost from the beginning that he would never want anyone but… his brother. Long before any sexual drives plagued other growing children, Al would look at his brother and swallow dryly, filled with urges he couldn't understand. Ed, who always slept the sleep of the dead, never knew how many times Al hovered over him in the night, hesitantly reaching out to touch his velvety cheek, his satiny lips, the smooth warm flesh over wiry muscles. Would touch him and shiver, not comprehending what drove him to caress his brother in his sleep. Now, it never occurred to Ed to stroke his brother innocently in his sleep, for after all, he was always so busy, well… sleeping. But when Al would have a nightmare, always, unbeknownst to him, about danger befalling his beloved older brother, Ed, not Tricia, would be the first to reach him, to carry him into his own bed and softly stroke his honey blond hair until the shivering boy would nestle into his arms and fall back into a contented sleep. Then Ed would gloat over his sleeping brother, marvel at the perfection of his features, his body, his soul, and know he would always… ALWAYS… protect Al. As the years passed, Al spent more time in Ed's bed then his own. After the tragic death of Tricia, Al never slept in his own bed again. That very first night, Ed took his hand and lay down with him, holding him tightly. After that, Ed and Al seldom slept alone again.

Al had known all along that he wanted Ed, even if he didn't really understand why his brother made him hot and cold and faint sometimes. He just knew, instinctively, that he would always feel this way about Ed. And Ed didn't have a clue. He just knew that there was one driving goal in his life, other than their hideous quest, and that was to keep Al safe and at his side. The day that Mason, disguised in the garb of a wild man, beat the hell out of Al on Yock Island, Ed found the strength to chase him off with a knife. Then he seized his semi conscious brother by the front of his shirt and shrieked for him to answer him. When Al groggily opened his eyes and responded Ed kissed him. In all honesty, Ed had kissed his brother many times; light chaste innocent kisses. Usually when Ed would get high strung about something and Al would calm him down. Then Ed would hold him and kiss him softly. But when his mouth found Al's that night on Yock Island, it was no light dry innocent kiss. Al was in the middle of talking, his mouth open, and his breath, rank from days and days of little oral hygiene, strange foods, and the muck of battle, there was… something there… that went straight to his head. His tongue darted into his brother's mouth and he drank from the sweetness that was Al. Then he pulled back, startled, both of them breathing erratically. A delicate blush stained Ed's high cheekbones, and he looked away. In usual Ed fashion, he submerged what had happened, but it colored every action between him and his brother from that day. He was softer around Al, gentler somehow, and even more fiercely protective of him. As for Al, everything crystallized for him. He realized, the moment he felt his brother's tongue in his mouth, what all the years had been showing him. He was in love with his brother.

Then there came the gate, and the loss of Ed's limbs and Al's body. And Ed was crushed. All his life he only wanted to protect and care for his brother. And he'd almost cost him his life and condemned him to live in a shell of armor. Sweet, perfect, loving Al, always so tactile, so touchy feely… unable to feel even the simplest most innocent of touches. Unable to feel anything… but the memory of a body he once wore with such grace. And Ed burned with purpose. He would rectify what he had done. He would get Al's body back, no matter what. And he burned to punish himself as well. Automail was perfect for him. Not only would it allow him to find a way to fix what he had broken, but the pain… ah, the pain of it… He deserved no less. All he had to do was look at the expressionless mask of the armor's helmet, hear the slightly tinny sound of his brother's voice coming from it… and he loved the pain of it. When he would groan with the agony of docking his artificial limbs, he welcomed the pain, embraced it. Then, shaken and weak, he would allow the cold steel of his brother's new body to cradle his sweating body, and silver tears would track down his face as he would softly beg Al's forgiveness.

For four years, the Elric brothers lived together, laughed together and loved together… and suffered together. They had their ups and their downs, and one horrible time when Al began to doubt his own existence and they were separated in coldness.

But that passed. When Ed's body began to mature, and he began to burn with teenaged hormones, nothing would induce him to act upon them. There was no way Ed was going to experience the pleasures of the flesh if Al couldn't. He wouldn't even masturbate. How could he, when Al, once so in love with sensation and tactile things, couldn't? No, he wouldn't even touch himself. Not until Al could. Those last two thoughts blended in his mind until they became the idea that he wouldn't touch himself, until Al could touch him. Every time it crossed his mind, he would blush. Al was his little brother! How could he want his little brother to touch him? Even after all those years, Ed could still remember vividly, the curve of his brother's smile, the warmth of his velvety skin, and that sweet honey scent that he always had from some reason. When they were younger, Ed used to tease him and say that Al would rub himself down with honey every night. But sometimes, now that Al was armor, and things were terrible, Al would hold him and comfort him with gentle caresses and soft nuzzles with his cold metal face, and Ed would catch just the faintest whiff of honey. It was these times that Ed wanted Al to touch him more intimately, yearned for it, and hated himself. Not only had he denied his brother years of life in a body that could feel, but now he wanted his brother to give him soft pleasure when it could not be reciprocated? Hell no! Thus when those inexplicable moments when his body would squirm and ache with need, he ignored it. It made him bad tempered, prone to fits of aggressive anger and self-recrimination. When Al saw him squirming in bed with an impressive erection, he slipped away to give his brother time to take care of it. But when he would return, Ed would sullenly tell him he didn't need to leave, and Al noticed that there was no change in his brother's overwrought body. Al become concerned with potential problems, like today when he told Colonel Mustang to fuck off and die. It was a very good thing that the colonel had a thing for Ed, for he could have brought the boy up on insubordination charges, but he didn't. In time, Ed might explode upon someone who would. Not to mention, seeing Ed squirm in dissatisfaction made Al's heart ache. Al told him he needed to take care of himself, but Ed refused. When Al gently tried to insist, Ed exploded; shouting that until Al could feel there was no way Ed was going to… to… do anything of that sort. There were tears in his golden eyes as he begged his brother to understand, to forgive his fits and starts. It would go away, it always did. Just… stay with him. Then Ed restlessly turned away and looked out the window, tension vibrating through his small slender frame. And Al came to a decision. He reached blindly into the basket on the table, and found a tub of butter. Scooping some out, he laved his leather palm liberally with it, and hoped he didn't scare his brother half to death. After all, a single thoughtless moment on the armored boy's side could crush one of Ed's bones, much less more tender sensitive flesh. But Al had been touching his brother for years and was confident he wouldn't hurt him. Then he walked over to his brother, and pulled him back against his cold chest plate.

"Al… what…" Ed gave a shocked gasp when Al's leather gauntlet slipped effortlessly past the loose waistband of his shorts. "What the hell… Al… oh god!" Al's leather hand, generously coated with butter, closed softly around his brother's swollen throbbing penis and he began to slowly pump Ed's cock through his fingers. Rockets exploded behind Ed's eyes, blinding him, as pleasure screamed through his body at what his brother was doing to him. It was so unexpected, so startling, he didn't even think to struggle. He just arched his back into his brother's gentle hand and moaned his name softly, reaching behind with his automail hand to cup the back of Al's metallic neck. To Al's disappointment, it didn't take long. Four thrusts into his hand and Ed groaned Al's name between clenched teeth and came copiously all over that huge softly loving hand. Then, utterly spent and completely exhausted, Ed collapsed into his brother's arms, Al's cool metal soothing his feverish body. "I love you… Al…" he said drowsily. "My… beautiful… perfect angel… Al…" And he fell asleep, as quickly as that. Al carried him over to the bed, and gently cleaned the butter and semen from Ed's body as well as his own hand. Then he laid his cool metal face against his brother's sleeping cheek and wished with all his heart that he could kiss him.

The next morning, Ed did not speak of what had happened between them. Al was afraid that his brother would react negatively. But Ed just smiled weakly at him, and even went to Mustang later that morning and apologized to him, leaving his superior officer staring after him in surprise. And he began to masturbate at least. He still refused to lose his virginity, but he never let his body get so tense and wound up with sexual frustration again. To Al's quiet disappointment and joy. As for Ed, the pleasure he'd received from his brother was so intense, so blindingly wonderful, it colored his waking thoughts for years to come. And when he would slip away to ease his fevered body, it was his brother's face, as it used to be years ago, his brother's sleek and tender body then, that he visualized as he came hotly over his own fingers. He even went so far as to sneak behind doors and furniture to masturbate to the sound of Al's innocent and beautiful voice as his brother talked to someone else, suckling his own automail fingers, fantasizing that it was Al touching him again; Al's metal in his mouth as he muffled his moans and came.

Time passed, and then there was the gate again, and the boys were separated. For Ed, it was a living horror - not knowing if Al was alive or dead, still trapped in that armor or living and laughing and crying and playing again. And the excruciating loneliness… he missed his brother with a heartache that would never end. A day would not pass that Ed did not think of Al, and grieve over his loss.