A/N: Sooooo sorry, everyone. I know, I fail at the updating. I'm trying to get better (not really, too much fail to even try that). But thank you sooo much, St. Astryr of the Uncool, mrawgirl09, chaos key, Misuki Anime Miko, and animefreak892cool4u for reviewing. I appreciate your input and encouragement to get my ass in gear. And of course, my lovely, "sweet" beta. Please leave your boots at home next time you want to "encourage" me to write.

And… could it be? Yes? Yes! My first attempt at pr0nz! So yeah, the rating goes waaay up for this… (and my maturity level drops for writing the word pr0nz with a smile on my face)

.:.

The rain fell against the glass window, tapping out a steady beat through the night. The wind rustled through the autumn dyed leaves, shaking loose a few and adding a soothing accent to the soft lullaby of the rain. Alfons listened to the natural music, snuggling deeper into his bed. He was wrapped under several blankets, warm and half asleep. Another set of equations wound through his mind but the formulas flowed smoothly for once, allowing him to drift along without any annoying snags keeping him awake. It was one of the first nights he had slept this easily in a while as he stressed over completing the rockets. So of course, something was going to interrupt this peace.

"Move over, Alfons."

He nearly jumped out of his skin as he was shoved none-too-gently against the wall by a prosthetic hand.

"Edward, what the heck?!" Alfons was fully awake as he watched Edward crawl into his bed. "What are you doing in my bed?!"

"Will you calm down?" Edward grumbled as Alfons tried to push him away. "I need a place to sleep."

"Use your own bed!" Alfons protested. He was almost shoved through the wall as Edward pushed him back.

"I can't, there's a leak above my bed and I don't see this storm ending anytime soon," Edward explained. "Just let me sleep here tonight."

"No, go sleep on the couch," Alfons insisted. He gave up trying to push Edward out of the bed after receiving a kick in the shin from Edward's prosthetic leg.

"We have a couch?" Edward asked sarcastically. "You have all your rocketry crap piled up on it."

"Then try the floor," Alfons suggested, elbowing Edward one more time in the hopes of pushing him off the bed. It didn't work and he received a glare in return.

"Come on, Alfons," Edward said. "It'll just be for tonight. I'll tell Gracia about the leak in the morning."

"I-"

"Great, thanks, Alfons." Edward turned onto his side, pulling the blankets over his shoulder.

"Ed!" Alfons exclaimed, exasperated. Edward made no response. "Fine," Alfons mumbled in defeat. He grabbed at the blankets and tried to pull them over his own shoulder but Edward refused to give up an inch. He also found that his pillow had been taken as well. He could have easily shared the blankets and pillow with Edward if he got closer to the man, but he wasn't exactly willing to be that close to Edward. As it was, Alfons was completely squashed against the wall trying his best to stay as far away from his new bed-mate as his small bed would allow.

He had imagined Edward in his bed several times before (he was male after all) but the circumstances of his wonderings were very different from the current. In his fantasies, they were both bare, panting, sweating as—

Woah, don't even start thinking about that, Alfons told himself as he felt a twinge between his legs. If he kept thinking like that, he'd no doubt be aroused (not to mention his slot in hell would slip deeper into the fires). He'd have no way to… uh, alleviate the feeling if he got carried away, not with Edward right next to him. It would be awkward trying to crawl over him to get to the bathroom and it would most likely wake up the older blond.

Alfons closed his eyes and tried to return to the blissful state he had been in a few minutes ago. He knew getting to sleep would be much more difficult now.

.:.

Edward proved to be a blanket hog. Alfons had tried several times to pull a blanket over during the night but Edward just pulled the blankets around him tighter. Alfons was cold but he knew it probably wasn't as cold as he felt; a terminal illness and a complete lack of body fat would do that to a person. He hated being cold but tonight he appreciated the fact that it was keeping him awake.

As Alfons had started to fall asleep, his eyes had honed in on Edward. The golden hair was loosely tied and splayed out between them, tickling the edges of Alfons' arm. His gaze followed the outline of Edward's body, wishing the blanket that was covering him would disappear (along with the loose cotton shirt Edward had put on). As Alfons began to drift off, his mind began to wander along a rather… erotic line of thought.

His eyes snapped open as he felt Edward's leg brush against his cock. He bit back a moan as a shiver ran the length of his body. Stop, stop, stop! he thought angrily at his arousal. This was not good. He had unconsciously gotten closer to Edward, his face almost pressed into the golden hair at the nape of his flatmate's neck. Alfons scooted backwards again, wincing as his legs rubbed against the bulge between them. He was hard from thinking about Edward and he was trapped in his own bed. Alfons nearly panicked as Edward rolled over onto his other side, facing him and throwing his prosthetic arm onto Alfons' waist.

The younger blond held his breath, fidgeting nervously as Edward started snoring.

Alfons bit his lip, his pale blue eyes flickering around for a way to get out of this without waking Edward up. His cock was protesting at the lack of attention it was receiving and having Edward this close was only helping to turn him on. Alfons whimpered as the too close Edward sighed, "Alphonse".

The ache was getting to be too much for him. Alfons steeled himself with a deep breath… before shoving Edward off of him and scrambling off the bed, racing out of the room and into the bathroom. He nearly slammed the door behind him and heaved a sigh of relief as he slid his hand down the front of his pants. He began rubbing his length, leaning against the door as he slid his flannel pants and cotton boxers down his waist. He shivered as the cold air met his bare skin but soon, his hands were keeping him warm.

He rubbed his palm up and down his cock, thumbing over the head in his attempt to hurry up and get this over with. He didn't masturbate often and when he did, it usually was rushed, as he feared Edward walking in on him. He hurriedly locked the door, terrified Edward was at any moment going to barge in demanding why he had been half flung off the bed. His pumping quickened as he imagined having to explain this to his flatmate. Those golden eyes glaring at him with disgust, the repulsed swears that would no doubt fly from his lips… those lovely, pink lips that he so longed to claim with his own.

Alfons let out a soft moan as the angry image of Edward morphed into the visions he had had while trying to get to sleep. Edward's scarred skin glistening with sweat beneath him, those golden eyes looking up at him, half-lidded with lust, his face flushed. Alfons' strokes slowed slightly as he imagined thrusting into Edward, or being thrust into himself. It didn't take long at all for him to reach the edge. He nearly bit through his lip to hold back his shout as he came harder than he remembered coming in a very long time.

.:.

Alfons woke the next morning to find that sleeping in a small bathtub was fun when you were ten-years-old and small enough to fit but not so much when you were almost nineteen and almost too tall for your own bed. He groaned, his spine popping painfully as he uncurled from his cramped position. His neck and legs were sore from being curled close to his body for the few hours left of the night. It would have been too embarrassing to try to crawl back into the bed with Edward, not to mention the fact that he probably would have gotten hard again. So Alfons had decided to curl up in the bathtub and hope Edward didn't guess why.

Alfons had sent several hundred prayers to God upon discovering that his roommate slept like a log. When Edward hadn't come pounding on the door like Alfons feared, he had gone to see what the older man was doing instead of confronting him. Alfons had nearly cried with relief when he saw Edward, half falling off the bed, still asleep and oblivious to the sinful actions that had taken place in the room down the hall.

But Edward was up now, and the slamming of a prosthetic fist on the wood door made Alfons freeze, debating whether or not to jump back into the tub and try hiding. "Yo, Alfons, you in there?"

"Y-yeah," Alfons said, his voice coming out higher than he intended.

"Well hurry up and get out of there!" Ed shouted and Alfons flinched. "I really need to pee!"

Alfons' knees nearly gave out beneath him in relief. Edward had no idea. He opened the door cautiously and was quickly shoved out of the room as Edward flew past and slammed the door in his face.

.:.

When Edward got home from the university, Alfons was nearly ready to kill himself. He had been home all day, having already moved his supplies and plans for the rockets into their small living room. He didn't know what to do with himself, all alone, and there was absolutely no chance of him wanting to repeat what had happened last night just to give himself something to do. He managed a few jerky naps, drifting in between sleep and consciousness as he tried to read. After peeling his face from the pages a fifth time, he finally threw Great Expectations into an open box. Edward had bought that book, he had to have, Alfons certainly hadn't. Or maybe it was Gracia, since neither rocket scientist found much interest in fiction… Well, whoever's it was, it wasn't keeping his attentions away from his thoughts of Edward.

Edward, who had been what he'd needed to get off. He was sick just thinking about it. And when the front door opened, he was still thinking about the golden man now walking into the apartment.

"…and you haven't even heard a word I just said, have you?"

Alfons was startled as Edward waved a gloved hand in his face. "Ah, Edward, I didn't hear you come in."

"I noticed." A roll of the eyes, a gentle smile that didn't quite manage to reach his eyes… a weird thing Alfons had noticed in his friends, the fact that his smiles never reflected in his eyes. The golden orbs were almost sad, gorgeous, glittering portals into Edward's inner workings that Alfons couldn't seem to break through to. He tried, sometimes, to really understand why, when Edward laughed, his eyes were distant; why, when he smiled, his eyes were sad, and why, when Alfons was near him, those gold eyes never left him and looked even more remorseful.

"…lost you again," Edward said, snapping his fingers in front of Alfons' face.

"Sorry," Alfons said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was thinking."

"Don't do it too often, might hurt yourself," Edward teased. "Anyway, Gracia invited us to dinner on Friday. You think you'll be able to spare a few hours from your obviously busy work schedule?" Slim gold eyebrow raised gracefully, hands folded delicately under his chin as he sat down across from him. Alfons swallowed.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll be free." He smiled, getting up from his seat. "Until then, I guess we'll have to suffer through another one of your home cooked meals."

"Hey, I cook a hell of a lot better than you," Edward said. He stuck his tongue out childishly. Another trait of Ed's, the ability to act rather mature for a few minutes and then resolve into ranting or acting like a child. "Damn should be, I spent four years with only me to feed…"

It was muttered, and obviously not meant for Alfons, but he heard the statement anyway. Edward's past was shrouded in a mist of mystery so thick, Alfons was surprised Edward could get through it. There were times when Edward seemed to lose himself in thought and muttered something that revealed just the tiniest bit, lifted the thinnest of layers from the mystery that was Edward. From these times, Alfons had learned that Edward had a little brother he had wronged, a little brother that looked alarmingly similar to Alfons. Edward hated his father, but that was easy enough to tell when the blond began ranting whenever the man's name was mentioned. Edward had been in the military, or somehow involved in it, Alfons was still too skeptical to believe that. And Edward, beautiful, distant, golden Edward, was burdened with the weight of a world Alfons didn't know, a loss he couldn't understand, and the distance in Edward's eyes was just further encouragement for Alfons to pry deeper into the fog.

.:.

"You just spoke with Gracia when you came home!"

"It didn't come up in the conversation. I completely forgot about it until just now."

"The rain has got to stop soon."

"Yeah, but until then, I need sleep."

Alfons sighed as he was pushed to the other side of his nearly-too-small-for-one-person-anyway bed. He kept a firm grip on his share of the blankets as Edward settled in next to him.

"You've gotta tell her about the leak tomorrow," Alfons said, frowning at Edward as the blond turned on his side, back to him. "You kick at night and it keeps me up." Well, that and… other things…

"Sorry," Edward muttered. A roll of thunder shook the building faintly. Edward squirmed deeper into the mattress as the rain began to pound harshly against the window. "Night, 'fons."

"You too," Alfons yawned. He shifted as comfortably as possible in the cramped bed and soon fell asleep to the sound of the thunderstorm.

.:.

For the second time in two nights, Alfons' sleep was interrupted by Edward. A sharp kick in the thigh snapped him back to consciousness and made him skooch away from the jerking prosthetics.

"No, 'm sorry," Edward muttered restlessly, head whipping from side to side. His loose hair was wild in his face, the features hidden beneath twisted in pain. He continued thrashing about, mumbling unintelligibly through the confines of what was obviously a nightmare.

"Edward?" Alfons leaned over the still sleeping blond. "Ed, wake up." He gently shook Edward's shoulder, trying to ignore how good it felt to feel the warmth of the smooth skin under his fingers.

"Don't, please, Al." Edward tossed and turned as Alfons tried to wake him.

"Edward, it's just a dream," Alfons said softly. "Wake up."

"No." Were those tears at the corners of Edward's eyes? "'s not."

"Ed!" Alfons shook him harder. Edward's eyes snapped open, flicking around in confusion.

"Al?" Edward asked, his voice shaking as he caught sight of Alfons over him. "No, dammit. Sorry." He rolled over, rubbing his eyes and trying to shrink into the mattress. Something inside Alfons' chest clenched painfully at the sound of Edward's disappointed voice. Can't I be enough for you? He wanted to ask. Can't you just accept the fact that you're stuck here and you're not getting back? I'm here for you, Edward, please don't push me away. He held in his thoughts; they were cruel, a slap to the face if he were to say them out loud. And he knew it wasn't Edward's fault there was such an awkward… space in between them.

"Ed-"

"I'm fine, Alfons," Edward said. "Just a bad dream. Sorry I woke you up."

Alfons frowned at the back of Edward's head but knew that talking to the wall behind him would get more results than talking to Edward at the moment. He settled back onto the bed, still watching Edward.

The sky outside lit up as a glittering bolt of lightning forked through the dark clouds. A loud cracked of the following thunder shook the building. Alfons was startled, not by the peal of thunder that followed a second flash of lightning, but by Edward's reaction to it. Edward, who acted as if he wasn't afraid of anything, whimpered and huddled deeper into the blankets. He was… he couldn't be… not of… Alfons had seen Edward stand up to drunkards twice his height and width without even flinching, seen him take down more than one opponent in a brawl, and watched him get dangerously close to moving cars and rocket engines. How could thunder be his weakness?

Edward squirmed closer to Alfons at the sound of another crack of thunder.

"Ed, are you ok?" Boldly, Alfons put his hand back on Edward's shoulder. The older blond tensed at the touch but didn't shake it off.

"'m fine," Ed muttered. "Just don't like thunder."

Alfons' mouth twitched; as if that wasn't blindingly obvious. "It'll pass."

"I know. Still don't like it." Edward didn't like milk either but the "white liquid secreted from a smelly animal", as Edward put it, didn't reduce him to cowering under the blankets. This was a close as he was to admitting it… scared him.

Sleep deprivation was messing with Alfons' mind. His hand moved to the golden hair tied back loosely back on its own, Alfons having made no conscious decision to do so. His fingers began to gently stroke through the soft, silky strands, invading a shady personal line he had forced himself to draw up between himself and Edward when it came to physical contact.

"What was your dream about?" he asked softly.

"Don't wanna talk about it." Edward pushed Alfons' hand out of his hair. "Tickles."

Alfons' drew his hand back as Edward huddled into the blankets.

.:.

Three days of rain was beginning to make Alfons rather depressed. It was difficult to test rockets when the equipment was dry, much less soaked almost as thoroughly as the engineers. While the new facility had a large enough space to work in comfortably, Alfons wanted to test the propulsion without frying half the crew and all the other projects. Work was delayed quite a bit. It wasn't the best first impression one could manage at a new job. But Professor Haushoffer didn't seem to mind too much. His new employer was as obviously ignorant of rocketry as Edward was of carrying on a conversation without diverging into chemistry and other science an average person cared little about.

It made life easier for Alfons but his own pride and conscious felt bad about pulling the wool over his employer's eyes. Dorochette had no qualms about it but then again, he wasn't the most proper of sorts to get an opinion from.

And while Alfons mulled these thoughts over in a half asleep daze, he barely paid attention to Edward as the older blond slipped into his bed. There was a leak in the room where they ate lunch at the warehouse, remedied easily by an empty bucket. Maybe they could just move Edward's bed to another side of the room and keep a bucket ready for more rainy nights. He exhaled through his nose with a soft hmm as he mulled over ways of fixing the leak. These musings slowly morphed into ways of making the leak permanent so Edward would crawl into his bed every night to make it warm and comfortable and tonight didn't seem like much of a thunder storm anyway…

He woke with bruises from hard metal-and-plastic limbs anyway.