Fandom: FMA
Title: Hiding From The Truth
Pairings: Elricest, Roy/Al
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Incest, hard yaoi, angst

Author's Notes: AU

Word Count: 2,129

Status: Incomplete
Disclaimer: When pigs fly.

Summary: The Elrics' quest has ended, they are restored, and find a sweet and forbidden love. But when Ed begins to fear society's wrath, he pushes Al away and into the arms of another man.

Hiding From the Truth

Chapter 8

When they got to HQ, there were reams of papers waiting for them. Before anyone could say a word, Al whisked a stack of them off to his little desk, where he worked industriously, and refused to lift his head once, unaware of the agonized glances Mustang frequently threw his way. But everyone else was aware of this, realized all was not well in Mustang's new little family, and the atmosphere was very subdued that day. When the midmorning break rolled around, Mustang glared at everyone in the room, and there was a minor stampede for the door; even Hawkeye was beating feet out of there. Finally, he was alone with Al, who rose from his desk, flashed the man a wistful look, and began to move to the door too.

In a flash, Mustang was out of his seat, around the boy, and stood with his back to the door. "Alphonse," he said, clearing his voice awkwardly, "about this morning…"

Al grabbed his own ponytail, pulled it over one shoulder and began to quickly run it through his hands, classic Al-unease. "I'm sorry, sir," he whispered, stricken.

"Sorry?" Mustang echoed, surprised. "For what?"

Al's eyes were glued to the floor at the man's feet. "For letting you down."

"Letting me down?" Mustang began to feel foolishly like a parrot. "How…"

"I know… I know my body has disappointed you. I should have tried harder to overcome the pain. I've spoiled everything by being weak. I'm so ashamed. And… and… this morning… I'm sorry I didn't control myself. I thought I'd learned my lesson with Niisan, but I guess I haven't. I know I shouldn't have touched you like that this morning. I'm sorry I didn't control my… needs better. But… but… if you'll just give me another chance, I'll do better, I swear. I'll make you like me again, if… if… if you want… if… I'll try harder… I swear… please forgive me… give me another chance… please sir…. If I lose you too… drive you away… like I did Niisan…. Don't know what I'll do… Please… another chance… please…" And Al was crying too hard to go on.

Cold shock spiraled through Mustang's body, freezing him to stone. Every word that spilled from Al's pale lips fractured his heart until the boy began to beg, when it shattered completely. How could he have done this to the boy? He was still so fragile from Ed's foolishness, and Mustang had done almost everything he could this morning to reinforce the notion that Al was once again unwanted and unloved.

"No, Alphonse, no," he said in a wounded voice, lunging forward and crushing him to his chest. "God, please don't cry, my love. Please. You're breaking my heart. Your body didn't disappoint me. Mine did. God, lovemaking is supposed to bring pleasure, not pain. I abused you, Alphonse, and I'm so sorry for that. I'm the one that lost control, not you. And you did nothing wrong this morning. Please don't stop touching me, kissing me. I like it. No, I love it. I want it. I need it. Just like I love and need and want you. I… This morning, when I woke up and started to make love to you… I was afraid I would hurt you again. I almost lost control again and took you. I was angry with myself, not you. I love you Alphonse. I love you. I'd marry you if I could. It's you that should be giving me another chance. Stop crying my love. I love you, I swear. So very much that sometimes I want to die when I look at you. God, I love you, Alphonse… every sweet, tender, delectable inch of your body. You drive me crazy, to distraction and I just want to make love to you until we die of it. Please forgive me and stop crying, please love. Please. I love you. I love you..."

Alphonse had actually stopped crying fairly early on in Mustang's remorseful rambling. He stared up at the man that was holding him so tightly, running his fingers through his hair until the band broke and Al's honey blond hair cascaded over his shoulders. Mustang had bent slightly, tears leaking from his eyes as he pressed his cheek to Al's, lifting the boy's feet off the ground, and nuzzling him tenderly. His heart burst with joy. Mustang did love him! Would marry him if he could! Al's arms crept around the man's neck and he silenced his lover with a deep kiss, taking advantage of the man's open mouth to curl his tongue inside gently.

Mustang gave a muffled groan, staggered back and fell onto the couch with him. He caressed Al's side tenderly, kissing him slowly, wetly, shivering at how close he'd come to driving his young lover away with his own brand of foolishness. Oh, how Ed would laugh!

Their lips parted for a moment, and Al found himself straddling Mustang's lap. They stared at each other solemnly for a moment, then a small tender smile curled the corners of the boy's mouth, making Mustang melt.

"I love you, Roy Mustang," he said softly, then bent his head, and Mustang, his heart bursting with joy, returned each kiss eagerly, running his hand up Al's velvet back under his shirt. He loved the feel of Al's fingers tight in his dark and glossy hair, the feel of those soft and silken lips on his, that sweet and honeyed breath in his mouth. God… so sweet… so pure…. So… so… Alphonse!

The door was flung open with a bang, and the sound of screeching metal broke into their passionate embrace.

"Dammit, I told you we were not to be disturbed…." Mustang looked up into the cold and furious yellow eyes of the Fullmetal Alchemist.

After his phone call with Al, it took Ed only eight days to wrap up his mission. He'd been ruthless, he'd been underhanded, sneaky, and more than a bit illegal. But he got the job done. Then he caught the first train back to Central, desperation in his heart. Al had said he could love Mustang with only a little bit more time. Ed didn't think he could bear losing his brother. Fuck, he'd made a real hash of things. He'd let his fear and worry of what the world would think color his actions to the one person, the only person he could love. And now Al thought he'd been forcing himself on Ed. He thought Ed didn't want him. But Ed did. God, he wanted Al with a passion and desire that sometimes scared him.

He'd always wanted his little brother; even when they were children. At the time, the older boy hadn't known why, but he'd felt driven to drive the other little boys and girls of Resembool away from them, keeping Al close to his side. And he made sure that he was all that Al would ever need. They'd held hands, and kissed in the trees behind the house in the summer. They'd gone swimming in their private little swimming hole about a mile from the house, naked and laughing and giggling, and touching until they fell onto the grass next to it, moaning and panting softly, as they kissed. The scent of Al had always driven him a little crazy, and when his little brother had a nightmare, it had been Ed, not Tricia, that had pulled him, sniffing and tearful, into the older boy's bed where he would hold, and stroke and kiss him until Al fell asleep in his arms, smiling and at peace. They went everywhere and did everything together. And when Ed stumbled across some of his absent father's more… interesting textbooks, it was Al he thought of. And it was Al he took into his bed that night, startling the little boy by changing the heat and texture of their kisses and caresses. And found he liked putting his tongue in Al's mouth very, very much. And like the taste of his brother's in his even better. And none of that had changed after Al lost his body. Ed needed his little brother's love, and had kept up their little private games as best he could. And when Al finally got his body back… whoa… But he'd learned several things over the past five years, and knew that if anyone found out how Ed felt about his little brother, they would take him away from him. And he grew scared and uncertain. And he'd reacted badly, leading Al to believe that he didn't want him anymore. That he was only 'handling' his brother's passions to keep from hurting his feelings. And god help him, at some point along the way, Ed had convinced himself of the same thing.

It wasn't until Al's had spoken so softly and shamefully on the way to the train station that Ed started to realize what he had done. And their phone call… when Ed learned that Al had turned to someone else to satisfy the fiery urges that Ed had fanned into flames so many years ago, and had taught to love so much… just to be able to keep his hands off his older brother, because he couldn't bear to 'force' himself on his brother anymore. Oh, how Ed had wept after Al hung up on him in frantic tears. He'd cried and wailed for a long time, scaring the meek old lady that had put him up during his mission. And then he'd gotten quiet. His eyes burned. He would take back what was his, that he'd scared away by his stupidity. He would get back what he had to survive. He would get Al back. He would make him understand that Ed… not Al… had been the one in the wrong. Ed would not surrender Al to Mustang without a fight. He would take back what was his. So he'd done whatever he had to do to ensure the success of the mission, and for the very first time in his life, didn't even care when he'd crossed questionable moral lines. Al's heart was at stake here, and he discovered that ethics were not as dear to him as his little brother. And as he bit his nails on the long and endless train ride home, he didn't regret so much as a single dirty underhanded thing he'd done in the last eight days. Not one.

Knowing their little house would be empty, Ed had bypassed it and gone straight to HQ. He would give his report to that damned, smirking bastard, and then go to his superior's house, where he would begin to woo his little brother back into his arms. But he hadn't known that Al worked for Mustang now. They'd never gotten that far in their phone conversation. And when he'd found Fury and Falman standing guard at Mustang's door, when he'd been told that the General was not to be disturbed, he hadn't cared. He snarled at them, shoved them aside, and flung open the door… and froze.

Mustang was sitting low on the couch, and Al was straddling his lap. The man had his damned hands all over his little brother; one up under the boy's shirt, the other wrapped tightly in Al's loose and glorious hair. Al's arms were around the man's neck, fingers sinking into that crisp dark hair, and they were kissing. Hot, panting, wet, messy kisses, the kind that Ed had always reveled in with Al. The man's hips were flexing slightly, almost imperceptible thrusts against his brother's tender rear. It drove home, like a spike through the heart, that this man… this bastard… was the one holding Al now, kissing him, and thrusting into that sweet and tight and hot body at night. Mustang… not Ed. All that delicious passion and sweetly frantic need, and mindbendingly hot and slick and dark pleasure had once been his, but he'd pushed it all aside out of fear, and it had finally slipped through his fingers. He swallowed bile back in his throat, and dimly heard the protest of metal on metal as his automail hand crushed the brass doorknob of Mustang's office into a misshapen lump.

He barely heard Mustang's snarl about not being interrupted, as rage and grief warred in his heart at the same time.

Al, hearing his lover's furious words, pushed away with a squeak, and fell off the man's lap landing on his rear on the floor. He turned, flushed with both arousal and embarrassment, towards what he thought was simply one of the gang, and was utterly floored to find himself look upside down at his older brother.