Since the oneshot turned into a many-shot, I changed the title and summary to be more appropriate. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter, and remember - feedback is love.
Betaed by shichahn, and encouraged by boxofdoom. The arc was approved by a whole bunch of friends of mine, who are wildly against Hei/Ed, but they said this was cute. Yay me?

Warnings: drunken boys, and one-sided shounen-ai (so far...). Minor movie spoilers, like Alfons' existance.

Long Night

For some reason, Edward seemed to think that because he had proved without a doubt that his stories were true, Alfons would now back him up.

It was 'Boys' Night Out' in a local pub, and Edward, as was his custom when he started getting drunk, was telling another wild tale of adventure.

To be fair, he was very popular. Most of the men didn't care whether or not the story was true, they just appreciated anyone able to spin a good yarn.

The nice part of that, Alfons mused, was getting the free beer. He felt absolutely no compunctions about cashing in on Edward's popularity, especially since it didn't look like Edward minded one way or another.

Whenever he went drinking with Edward, he always found himself in the role of 'babysitter', though Edward would probably not appreciate the sentiment. Alfons always listened carefully to make sure that none of Edward's stories fell into any sort of 'dangerous' category, and he also kept an ear out for the point in which Edward stopped having fun, and started getting weepy and talking about death.

Then he would make his apologies, drag Edward home, put him to sleep, and usually have to sit through another rendition of 'The Day I Died- the Second Time' by Edward Elric.

Once Edward was safely in bed, Alfons would try to fall asleep, and wonder to himself why exactly he agreed to put himself through all this for his friend's sake. The crowning irony of the night would be that while Edward slept like a log until he woke with a hangover in the morning, Alfons would usually find himself waking in a cold sweat from nightmares of being chased by monsters and stabbed through the chest.

Tonight Alfons sat quietly, nursing his beer and enjoying the play of emotions on Edward's face. He allowed himself to entertain a small fantasy of brushing Edward's golden hair, running his fingers through it, Edward humming happily as he rubbed his scalp-face scarlet, Alfons choked on his beer, then looked around surreptitiously to make sure nobody noticed. Tomorrow he would justify these fantasies to himself by claiming he was drunk. After all, one couldn't expect to act (or think, as the case may be) properly when one was drunk.

Edward's story was winding down, and was being followed by the usual cries of skepticism.

"It's true, I tell you," Edward insisted. "Hey, Alfons," he suddenly called over, "tell them I'm telling the truth."

The other men greeted this challenge with laughter, and turned their attention to the German expectantly.

Alfons stared at him in horror, the blood draining from his face. What was he supposed to say? There was no way he could confirm Edward's story, they would just both end up sounding like lunatics!

"I…" he stammered, staring straight at Edward, who was grinning at him, having absolutely no concept of the trouble he had just caused. There was an obvious challenge in those golden eyes, and Alfons wanted to wail in despair. He wasn't good at this sort of thing!

"O-of course it's true," he heard his mouth say, to his horror. Edward grinned wider, and suddenly Alfons found himself grinning back. "Only, Edward's keeping the best stories for himself! I bet you he never told you about the time…" and with that, he launched into a ridiculously improbable story about the capitol being invaded by a bunch of dragons. They were fought off single-handedly by Edward and his brother, who summoned up a lightning storm to defeat them, and ended up frying all the telephone lines.

He watched Edward laugh along with the others at the sheer silliness of his story, and felt a thrill of excitement.

We have a secret, Alfons wanted to say to Edward. It's not only your story anymore. It's mine too, because I know it's true.

At the end, they both laughed, because they both knew that Alfons had made up a bunch of drivel, while Edward was telling the truth, and that they were the only ones who knew the difference.

Alfons was surprised, to say the least, when Edward was the one to suggest they head back. It was a rare thing to see Edward lucid after a night of drinking, but Alfons wasn't going to pass up the opportunity.

True, it meant that on the walk home he wouldn't have an excuse to hold a drunken Edward, but on the other hand having a conversation partner definitely made up for that.

Edward walked quietly beside him, though every so often he glanced sideways at Alfons, so much that Alfons began to worry that he had said something wrong.

"You're not bothered because I told that story, are you?" That was the only major way in which today had been different from other days, and Alfons now wondered if it hadn't been such a good idea.

"Huh? No, of course not!" Edward looked surprised. "Why should it bother me? It's not like it was real…and anyway, it was sort of funny." Edward abruptly looked away, and Alfons wasn't sure if he had seen a blush on his face or not.

"It was weird hearing you tell a story about me," he continued. "I almost…"

Alfons found himself having to backtrack, as Edward had paused in the middle of the sidewalk, and was looking at him with a curious expression. As always, Alfons was unnerved by the intensity of the gaze, yet at the same time excited.

"Alfons," Edward said, his tone wistful, "Would you…"

When he didn't continue after a moment, Alfons prompted, "Would I what?"

Edward abruptly resumed walking. "What?" he said, blinking guilelessly at Alfons.

"You were going to say something!"

"Was I?" Edward scratched his head, smiling innocently. "I have no idea. Guess I'm drunker than I thought."

"You…" Alfons sighed, his heart sinking. Somehow, he had thought that they had grown closer. Maybe he had imagined their camaraderie that evening, because now Edward seemed to be blocking him out again. They kept walking, Alfons a few paces behind Edward, still lost in gloomy thoughts. Being Edward's friend had been nice, while it lasted, and he couldn't help but want to try and resurrect the feeling.

Alfons screwed up his courage, and decided to ask a rather leading question. "Edward…have you ever been in love?"

Crap. He hadn't meant to ask that. He furiously tried to come up with some way to defuse the situation, preferably before Edward jumped to unpleasant conclusions.

Edward blushed, and Alfons forgot all about defusing the situation, and set about trying to convince his mind that the words 'cute' and 'Edward' did not belong in the same sentence.

"I don't know," Edward said uncomfortably. He chased the blush away, and stared challengingly at Alfons. "Define 'love'."

Why had he even bothered being worried? Alfons wondered. Edward was about as dense as a brick when it came to these things.

"Well," he said, "I guess it's when you really care about someone. When you want to be near them, and when they're happy it makes you happy." It was so sappy Alfons wanted to cry. Couldn't he have found a better way to put it?

But Edward, at least, was taking it seriously. His eyebrows were furrowed, and he seemed to be giving this problem the same amount and intensity of thought he would give a complicated mathematical equation.

"Yeah," Edward finally said. "I guess I am in love with someone, then."

Alfons gaped, too stunned to even notice that part of his mind wanted to crawl into hole somewhere and die. "You are?"

Edward nodded decisively. "With my brother."

The German stopped completely, shocked to his core. His brother? And Edward could just stand there in the middle of the road and admit it?

Edward was looking back at him, confused.

"You…you…" Alfons stammered. And he thought his desire for Edward was twisted! What kind of person could actually want their own brother?

"What?" Edward looked antagonistic. "You asked-"

Alfons grabbed his shoulders and demanded in a harsh whisper, too disturbed to be tactful about it. "You want to have sex with your brother?!"

"What?" Edward glowered at him. "Who said anything about sex? That's disgusting."

"But you said you were in love with him!"

"You were the one who defined 'love', and you didn't say anything about sex!" Edward shook Alfons' hands off his shoulders.

"I thought it was obvious," Alfons protested. How exactly did everything always end up his fault?

"It's like defining a horse as a brown thing with four legs, and not mentioning it's a mammal! Obvious, my ass. If you're going to define something, do it properly!"

Most of the time, Alfons worshiped Edward's analytical mind. Right now, he detested it. "Fine, so ignore that. Redefine it as 'somebody you care about that you want to sleep with'. Happy?"

"My brother," Edward hadn't finished ranting. "That's just so wrong." Abruptly he whirled on Alfons. "What's up with you and your assumptions? First the demon thing, now this…"

Now it was Alfons' turn to blush scarlet. He didn't want to remember that.

Sensing his advantage, Edward looked at him slyly. "Hey, Alfons…"

When the German turned to him, Edward abruptly stuck out his tongue and used his fingers to mimic devil horns.

"Stop that!" Alfons practically shouted. "That's not fair. And get back here!"

Maybe tonight he wouldn't have any weird nightmares, Alfons thought to himself sleepily. He was right on the verge of falling asleep, when his door creaked open. He wasn't quite sure whether or not he was dreaming; he rather hoped he wasn't, because if this was a dream, something would be jumping on him and trying to claw out his eyes any minute now.

"Alfons?" Edward whispered from the doorway. "Are you sleeping?"

"Yes," he mumbled. "Go away."

Edward, being the contrary nuisance he usually was, took that as an invitation to enter the room.

"What about you?" Edward asked.

"Huh?" Was his mind exceptionally slow tonight, or had Edward just uttered another one of his complete non-sequiturs?

"Alfons, wake up a minute." Sure, he had no problem waking up. It was hard to do anything else when Edward was shaking him.

"What are you talking about?" Alfons finally groaned, rolling over to look at his friend. Though right now he wasn't feeling terribly friendly towards him at all. He was buzzed, dammit, and he wanted to sleep.

"Are you in love with anybody?" Edward asked patiently.

It took Alfons a moment to register the question. "You woke me up for that?!" he finally snapped.

"I was only wondering," said Edward defensively. "And besides, you asked first."

"Well, you never answered, so we're even. Go away now."

"I want to know!"

Alfons rolled over and tried to cover his head with the pillow. "What makes you assume I'm in love with anybody, anyway?"

"Why else would you bring up the subject?" Edward tried to snatch the pillow away. "Come on, you are in love with someone, aren't you?"

"Gah! Fine! I'm in love!" Alfons threw the pillow at Edward's head. "Are you happy now? Can I go to sleep?"

Edward was now looking at him curiously, the pillow on the floor by his feet. "Does she love you back?"

She. There was really no getting around that. Alfons looked away, a headache beginning to throb between his temples. He didn't know what to do. Was he in love? Was this more than just wanting? Would Edward ever want him back? "I don't know," he finally said sadly.

He probably would never know.

"…what are you doing?" he mumbled, when instead of leaving the room, Edward sat down on the side of the bed.

"Move over," Edward ordered. "I'm just going to sleep here."

That woke Alfons up again. "What? Why?"

"My room is all the way down the hall. Besides, what does it matter? We're both guys. And your bed is bigger than mine, we can both fit in."

"No!" Alfons protested, nearly panicking. Sleeping with Edward, in the same bed, that was just too much temptation for him to bear.

"Why not?"

"You'll…probably kick me with your prosthetic or something," he stammered lamely, then wished he could take the words back.

"Oh." Edward's face fell, and he backed off without a word.

"No, wait, I didn't mean it that way!" Alfons got up to chase after Edward. He grabbed at Edward's sleeve, temporarily arresting his movement.

"Really now." There was an ugly note in Edward's tone. "Obviously the thought of being so close to a cripple sickens you. I'll just get out of your way."

All Alfons could see was the top of Edward's head. The shorter man was doing an excellent job at avoiding his gaze. "I didn't say that!"

Edward said nothing, but jerked his arm away. Refusing to give up, Alfons latched onto him, wrapping both arms around him.

After several minutes of squirming, Edward finally stopped and glared up at the German. "I could throw you easily, you know."

"I know," Alfons panted with the attempts at keeping his hold on Edward. His lungs were already beginning to twinge, and he hoped he wouldn't start coughing. "I'm actually praying you won't, because it doesn't sound like something I would enjoy."

They stood silently for several moments in the middle of the room, and then Edward spoke up again.

"Are we going to stand here all night?"

"I'm actually rather enjo-" Alfons cut off the sentence quickly. Shit. Fine, so it was nice standing in the middle of the room and holding Edward. How could he forget that Edward didn't feel the same way? Not to mention, how could he possibly be stupid enough to say anything about it? "Let's just go to bed."

Edward twisted his head around to look up at Alfons. For a long moment, Alfons found himself weighed, judged, analyzed – then, with a soft sigh, Edward looked away.

"Fine," he said, and allowed himself to be led back to the bed.

After several minutes of rolling around and tugging the sheets back and forth, they finally found a comfortable position.

When Alfons woke up the next morning, uncomfortably bruised from the prosthetics, with Edward's hair in his mouth and not nearly enough room in the bed, he was surprised at how lucky he considered himself. And, Heaven help him, how much he wanted to wake up like this every morning.

The only disappointment was that it would be nice to have been wrong about the kicking part.