"You didn't put up this much of a fuss when I was with Mustang."
"This is so far beyond the Mustang thing."
"Uh, besides your reaction, I'm not seeing the difference."
"For starters, at least when you were fucking Mustang you had standards!"
A snort.
"Yeah, apparently not. I just- ugh – I can't believe you, Ed."
"Hey! I'm being straightforward!"
"After three years! And only because I – that is definitely not the point. Or the problem." Alphonse Elric, face as red as the coat he continued to nick from his brother's closet, slammed two angry, non-alchemically charged palms down on the table such that it shook. Somewhere down the hall, an ornament teetered precariously close to death.
Then his arms relaxed – more that each muscle simultaneously gave up on supporting him through the tempest in his head – and he slumped onto the table, butt meeting chair with a dejected displacement of air. Face buried in his arms, he could hear Ed give a melodramatic sigh.
Without looking up, Al pointed a finger at his older brother. "You are so gross," he whined. "Why. Why. Why? Ugh."
"Relax, Al," Ed said, keeping up his valiant effort at treating the whole damned situation like a weird joke. Either because he was finally being forced to confront the total ew-osity of his adventures in Munich, or because he actually didn't think it was a big deal. Al couldn't read minds, and wasn't sure he wanted to know which anyway. "Alfons wasn't you."
"He looks exactly like me! That's even worse!" If he hadn't already survived puberty, Al would've positively squeaked, and as it was the emphasis lent a certain chalkboard feel to his desperate disgust. He waved his finger vaguely in the direction of the photograph Ed had pulled out.
That is to say, the photograph he'd found in Ed's room while looking for his new boots that Ed kept wearing without asking permission, and then confronted Ed about, prompting Ed to pull it out.
"Smells like you too," Ed added thoughtfully.
"He smells like me too! Oh…ew, oh god. Please, please, please, brother, just stop talking."
"Where are you going?" Ed asked. The red coat fluttered into his lap like a scarlet letter.
"I am getting out of this incestuous excuse for an apartment and I am finding a nice seedy pier to drown my sorrows in," Al said matter-of-factly as he could. The door slammed shut in his wake.
He only made it around the corner when he collapsed in an alleyway and freaked out as quietly as possible into his sleeve.
"Ohhhh my god. Ohmygod. Ed. And a guy. Who looks like me. Just like me. Smells like me too? He has the same name!"
He kind of wished he were a suit of armor again so he could not hyperventilate.
He also wished Ed were still with Roy. At least then he saw Lieutenant Hawkeye when Ed was busy being creepy.
"This is so gross!"
