A/N: I actually wrote Ed's P.O.V. first but that was in a notebook and I had the chance to type Al's point first, so here it is. Hope you enjoy the short elricest thoughts.
Warning: Elricest, intimate thoughts.
I know you can be really oblivious sometimes, but often I find this amount hard to believe. It would be hard to miss beauty like this, especially when you see it every time you look in a mirror. I know I'm not the only one who's noticed either. I see them looking at you, brother and wonder how you can miss it. I know the colonel looks, that look that makes most women shiver to their shoes and makes me furious. Because no one should be allowed to look at you like that, no one but me. Is that selfish, Ed? That I want you for myself even if I know it's wrong, even if I know it's a sin. Don't get me wrong, I wouldn't pull you into anything you don't want, but I can hope can't I? Hope that when I see you staring you know I'm looking too. But you're so caught up I'm not even certain it's me you're staring at, but I have hope. I know it's wrong to want to touch you the way I do. I know it's wrong to wonder if the years of harsh weather have roughened them, or if your lips are possibly as soft as they look. "You're staring again, brother. Is something wrong?" I have to ask, you expect it, and even if not I want to know if it is me you're seeing.
"No, Al. Sorry I was just sort of spacing." That's always what you say, I wonder if it's the truth. Or if you're embarrassed to say what you were really watching, or if you just don't feel you can, or should, tell me.
"You know I love you, Ed." I didn't mean to say it, it just kind of came out. But at least when I tell you that you can take it any way you want to, you can believe that I'm just reminding you as a brother. It's not my fault my hand is resting on your flesh arm now, I can't help it. The need to touch you is too much.
"Love you too, Alphonse." I love it when you use my full name it tells me that maybe I'm not just an afterthought. Those words, when you say them I know how you mean them, but my hope tells me there's more too it. You don't think it's strange that I'm hugging you now, do you? Like I said, I can't help it. I want to touch you, to hold you. To tell you everything I feel and be glad that you feel the same way I do. Your arms are around me now, of course they are, that's what I expected and you know that. It's strange though, I feel something a little different in your touch. It's still you, Edward, no doubt about that but it feels odd. Like you're trying to tell me just what I want to hear, without being obvious. If that's what it is maybe there is room for hope. I know you can feel the difference in my touch, too. It's there even plainer than how beautiful you are, and you tighten your grip for just an instance, you know. And I hope you want me to know you feel the same.
Maybe my hopes not unfounded, maybe wanting to touch you, wanting to kiss you isn't such a horrid thing after all. Besides, I'm sure that kissing you will be worth every second I have to wait, until you want to kiss me too.