The rest of June and half of July rolled by with no more sightings of Ed. He seemed so tormented during their last encounter that Al thought it was for the best that they not meet again. Ed's old wounds were obviously still open.
It was on the third Friday of July when Al, who was walking home from a quick grocery errand after work, noticed a flyer stapled on the telephone pole on the corner of his street. He stopped to read it. Its font and layout were familiar. Only the date had changed. Ed's band was scheduled to play again at Red Rock tomorrow night.
Passersby may have thought him out of his mind, because he stood staring at the flyer for far longer than the time it would have taken to read it.
He finally snapped out of it, trudged through the door and upstairs to his apartment.
He knew he would go. He could try to talk himself out of it all he wanted, could try to weigh every single pro to con he could come up with. It wouldn't matter. The fact was he was drawn to Ed. This infatuation consumed him since that first night he saw him on stage. From the time he opened his eyes in the morning to when he shut them at night, just about every thought, every daydream, involved Ed.
As night fell and he laid his head on the pillow, he finalized his decision. Tomorrow he would see Ed.
He awoke the next morning, still feeling confidant in his choice. He didn't care to hash out any possible scenarios, for Ed was so hot and cold with him that he could never predict whether he would be angry or sad or happy to see him.
Al spent his afternoon cleaning his apartment. If he didn't engage in some activity, no matter how mundane, he thought he might go crazy waiting for night to come. He scrubbed, wiped and mopped obsessively so as to keep his brain occupied. He had been at it for hours, finally relenting and heading to the shower.
He selected a cream three-button linen shirt, navy blue trousers and chestnut ankle boots from his closet and got dressed in record time.
A few minutes spent brushing his teeth and his hair and he was ready. Ready for exactly what, he didn't know, but if Winry had taught him anything, it was that adventures and new experiences were a good thing.
He planned on being fashionably late, not wanting Ed to spot him in the place before it filled with people. So he departed at ten o'clock, traversing the path to Red Rock languidly.
As expected, by the time he entered the club the band was in full swing. They seemed to have expanded their fan base since their last performance here; it took Al a long while until he could even reach the bar, and even longer until a stool opened up. He took the seat toward the end of the bar farthest from the stage. He figured he most likely wouldn't be spotted by Ed from here, the crowd was so dense.
Al rotated on his stool and looked to the stage. Ed wore the same skin-tight leather pants, same clunky boots, but was shirtless.
Al's eyes roved over Ed's bare torso; from the prominent ridge of his clavicle, the tight swell of his chest, the toned musculature of his abdomen, to the pronounced lines peeking out from just over the waistband of his pants.
He had simultaneously taken a sip of his drink, which was a mistake, because he promptly choked on it. The girl seated next to him craned her neck away from the conversation she had been engaged in and gave him a worried glance. He pressed the palm of his right hand to the base of his neck and gave her a thumbs-up with the left.
He returned his gaze to Ed on stage growling out the final words to a song. He seemed no different than before, expression still stolid, eyes flashing no discernable emotion.
Al sat at the bar through their last set and ordered another drink as they ended. Some people cleared out, some stayed to mingle and converse at the bar. Not wanting to involve himself in anything that might cause him to miss Ed, he engaged no one and kept to himself and his drink.
He noticed a quartet of twenty-something girls standing giggling at the bottom of the stage steps, seemingly waiting for Ed to come greet his adoring fans. They seemed content in waiting as long as it would take him, talking amongst themselves and snapping pictures with their phones. He finally appeared from the far left side of the now darkened stage, pulling a black tank top on as he walked.
The group of girls quickly stopped chattering, one trying to conspicuously point him out to the rest. As he reached the bottom step, and couldn't proceed anyway unless he barreled right through them, he flashed them a small smile. Al couldn't hear what one girl said to him, but they all soon squeezed together for a few photos. He could read 'thank you' on one of the other girl's lips as they finished, and she dared to reach a hand out to touch his bicep. As he walked away from them, the girls erupted in a chorus of "oh my god" and "he's so hot."
A pang of jealousy flashed hot in Al's chest. All he had ever gotten from Ed was signs of violence or the cold shoulder. This was the first time he saw him smile and he couldn't fool himself into denying he wasn't hurt that it was given so freely to someone else.
He spun back around, taking a mouthful of his drink. Make that two. One more and he emptied it, setting the cup down and nudging it to the other side of the bar for a refill.
Ed was still making his way around the club, stopping to chat with friends, fans. No matter how dour he looked, he was still charismatic enough that people approached him freely and without hesitation. He greeted his admirers and acquaintances, some with a little smile, others with a toothy grin, some with a jovial pat on the back.
Al turned away from the bar just in time to see Ed standing among a group of young men, laughing. He was beginning to think him incapable of it. Al observed how the happiness reached his eyes, and they squinted nearly completely closed as the apples of his cheeks rose.
Al imagined how amazing it would feel to make Ed smile like that. How sad it was that he didn't think he ever could.
The alcohol circuiting through his bloodstream was kicking in now. His imaginings vaccillated between scenarios of romance to the crushing possibility of eternal solitude and back again.
He stood from his stool, walked through a dim corridor and headed into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, he patted a wet hand against his forehead and pulled a length of paper towel from its receptacle on the wall. He dabbed the droplets away, balled the towel up in his fist and tossed it into the trashcan.
When he exited the bathroom, a figure cloaked in shadow was leaning against the hallway wall, arms folded, the sole of one foot pressed against the splintered wood.
"Why'd you come back?" Ed asked curtly. He was not looking at Al, rather to the floor.
His voice sounding from the darkness made Al jump. "Geez, you scared me." It seemed Al wasn't as hidden at the bar as he thought. He was purposely dodging the question, but Ed seemed patient.
Al knew he couldn't give an authentic answer. "I think about you all the time" sounded obsessive. "I can't get you out of my head" sounded even more absurd.
"I wanted to see you, I guess" was what he went with.
A song began playing in the bar room, presumably from the jukebox, sending the grungey riff of an electric guitar pumping through the overheard speakers.
Al positioned himself along the wall next to Ed. He moved to press his palms flat against the planks, head tilted back against them. He must not have realized how close together they were, because his arm grazed Ed's as he leaned back.
He turned his face to Ed. Ed turned to look at Al. They locked eyes for a long moment.
Simultaneously, they both whipped their bodies toward each other, their lips crashing together.
They kissed furiously, deep and desperate. Ed pushed Al back against the wall. They pressed their bodies flush together. Al gripped onto Ed's hips. Ed's hands were on the sides of Al's neck.
Al pulled away an inch, huffing hard. "Do you want to go back to my place?" Ed said nothing, but grabbed Al by the hand, yanked him away from the wall and started walking down the hall toward the side door.
They came out at the parking lot. Ed let go of Al's hand and walked quickly toward his car, Al close behind. They hopped in. Ed pushed the gas pedal to the floor, getting them back to Al's apartment at breakneck speed.
Ed made a rush of parking while Al took his keys out of his pocket. Ed stepped out of the car first, quickly walking around the front of the car to the sidewalk. Al got out and stepped to the building's door, opening it and heading inside. Ed followed a few steps behind. They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Al's hand was shaking so much it took him two attempts to get the key into the lock.
Al stepped in first and turned to close the door behind Ed. He pulled it shut and they pounced right on each other again. Al's back slammed against the door as Ed pressed himself against him, their lips joining again hungrily.
Al gripped tightly onto Ed's shoulders, pushing him gently, leading him backwards down the hall to his bedroom. They blindly knocked into every piece of furniture along the way.
As they entered the bedroom, lips locked, hands roving all over each other, Ed spun them around, Al shuffling backward now, falling to his back on the bed when his legs hit the side of the mattress. Still attached at the mouth, they moved as one; Al collapsed onto his back, Ed collapsed onto Al, straddling him.
Ed, throbbing with need, pressed himself against Al. Al gasped at the same time a gutteral groan escaped Ed.
They both surfaced for air, chests heaving. Ed sat up, crossed his arms, grabbed the hem of his shirt and pulled it off in one fluid motion. After Al quickly undid the buttons of his shirt, he too sat up and Ed helped him out of it, throwing it to the floor behind him. They got to undoing the fastenings of their pants, undergarments, socks and shoes being flung all about the room.
Ed planted his hands on either side of Al, capturing his lips again, and started crawling up toward the headboard, urging Al to scoot himself back. When his back hit the propped array of pillows, Ed began sliding himself over the length of Al's naked body, leaving a trail of kisses from collarbone, to sternum, to navel, finally wrapping his hand around his shaft and taking him into his mouth.
Al moaned loudly, neck craned back, chest arcing off the bed. He dug his fingers into the sheets, clutching tightly at the fabric.
Ed sucked hard on him, eased and ran his tongue up the underside, and repeated. His hand gripped him vice-like.
Al felt a hot crescendo building. Every muscle in his body tensed. A gutteral groan from the back of his throat left his wide open mouth, eyes squeezed shut. He shuddered as the orgasm racked his body hard.
Ed rose, sitting on his legs folded beneath him. His took a long, slow inhale through his nose and expelled it through pursed lips.
Al laid for a minute, panting. As he sat up, he took in the vision of Ed before him. The aura surrounding him was much softer than before. Loose strands of hair fell from his braid. His cheeks were flushed a diffused mauve. The skin of his bare body, a creamy blonde-tan shade, firm around lithe but strong musculature. Al thought he had never seen anything so beautiful.
He crawled down the bed toward Ed, coming to a stop behind him. He pressed his chest against his back and curled an arm around him, placing his palm flat over his heart.
Al kissed the side of Ed's neck. Ed's head fell back onto Al's shoulder, allowing Al a larger expanse of skin to taste. He pressed his lips softly to the juncture at his shoulder, wrapping his other arm around him and curling his hand around his erection. Ed sucked in a breath through his teeth.
Al began pumping his fist up and down, slowly and firm, kissing the hard line of his jawbone, the lobe of his ear, over his thrumming pulse. Ed's chest heaved with hard, slow breaths. He traced his fingers along Al's forearm, bringing them to rest at his wrist, which he curled them around gently.
As Al's pace quickened, so did Ed's breathing. He was panting in ecstacy. He twitched in Al's hand, muscles tensed and let go of a deep moan. He arched his back, neck upon Al's shoulder.
"Alphonse!" he gasped and released, muscles yielding.
They dragged their limp bodies back up toward the pillows, flopping on their backs unceremoniously. Ed lay with one arm behind his head, other hand resting on his stomach. Al set his clasped hands on his chest.
They lay awake in silence for a while, but eventually their weary bodies succumbed to sleep. Al nodded off first, having since turned on his side toward Ed. Ed had fallen asleep too, but not for very long.
In the middle of the night, when the city was still, Ed turned to Al, gazing upon his placid face. He carefully reached a hand over to brush the fringe away from his eye, and traced his fingertips down his temple.
Al awoke in the morning to an empty bed.