"That's... loud." For once, the obvious statement came from the younger Elric. Even though they stood yards away from the building, Al could feel the heavy bass thumping and thrumming through his bones. A small smile quirked at his lips as he watched his older brother, who was already swaying slightly to the music; he couldn't truthfully say, though, that he didn't feel the urge to do the same.
"Yup. Means we don't have to hear everyone else. Great for covering our conversation, too. And the crowds... they're easy to disappear in." The blond nodded in the direction of the large group that had just entered the... establishment, if it could be called such a reputable-sounding word.
The Iron Mask, as it was dubbed by the bold, imposing letters over the entrance, was one of the most popular clubs within Central. How, exactly, he had been roped into coming to this place he would normally avoid, Alphonse wasn't quite sure. All he knew was that this throbbing, pulsing music was taking over him, making him want to just stay in one place and move.
Bass thumping through his bones, Ed pulled his little brother into the dark, flashing, horrendously loud throng that was the clientele of the Mask. You got different people here every time, but the same groups always showed up: goths, posers, people who just wanted a good grind, and, of course, people like him who came here for the anonymity. Within the Iron Mask, no one knew (or cared) who you were. Everyone was just another face in the crowd... except, of course, your dance partner or partners. The blond kept Al close to him; he didn't want anyone else making a move on the inexperienced boy who just happened to be taken. Once a suitable distance from the door (it wouldn't do to be seen by someone they knew passing by in the outside world), he turned to face the young man so overwhelmed by the experience.
The effect of the music was almost magical; already, Alphonse moved, almost flowed, to the beat. The crush of people forced the two into close proximity, until Ed was practically on top of the younger teen. The blond closed his eyes, let the music run into, around, and through him... and danced.
There was no point in trying to talk; there was nothing to say, and, besides, even if he had wanted to say something, either boy would have to scream his throat raw to be heard over the blaring music. There was no pretense of wanting to stay apart; here, they were just another pair of dancers, who both happened to be male. It wasn't uncommon to find pairs (or trios) of the same gender here, anyway. Everyone cut loose; everyone thought of themselves and no one else. Still the pair of Elrics danced, so well matched and entangled they could almost be mistaken for one person. Flexing, dipping, muscles moving and contracting perfectly, as if dancing to this throbbing, pulsing beat was something programmed into the genes of every human being.
The salty smell of sweat was everywhere.
As were the swerving, multicolored lights.
And the never-ending beat.
Nothing else mattered.
And oh, fuck, wasn't this just the best sensation ever bred into the genetic code? Blood thrumming from the pulse of the beat, already achingly hard from being this close to his lover, this night was setting Ed to the torch- and every movement was just fuel on flames.
God... so this was why Ed was always so eager to get into a club. The pulsing beat, coupled with the swaying, beautiful, and, damn them both, drop-dead sexy form of the blond, was enough to have Al back here every night, all night, just to watch... and experience these glorious moments all over again. Half-lidded, eyes that would have been described as 'smoky' by an outside observer (had anyone cared to observe) focused on his partner, watching each dip, sway, and roll, every minute movement, of his lithe body. Sparks, looping through his stomach, became flames as they swooped downwards. The flesh hand curled around Al's neck, pulling him in until they were breathing each other's exhalations; every so often, the sway of the music would bring their bodies closer than ever, until one or the other (usually, Alphonse had to admit, himself) was gasping for breath and mastery of his body. By now, he was clinging to Ed, though still lost in the sheer ecstasy of the dance, if such a mundane word applied to the situation. Somehow, it just seemed right when lips clamped down on his neck, worming their way past the collar of the dress shirt Ed had earlier dubbed so very inappropriate. At this moment, Al was inclined to agree; the starched fabric didn't bend nearly as quickly as his neck when he threw his head back instinctively at the touch on his jugular.
For a few seconds he panicked; what would happen if someone saw them? What if somehow, someone knew? But his brother's words from earlier, 'Don't worry. No one cares about anyone outside of their partner and themselves there,' returned to his mind, and the brown-haired teen lost himself in the moment.
Oh, to hell with it. If they kept this up, they would be heading for the damn bathroom. He was close enough already; it wouldn't take long. Al felt the same, surely enough. Having opened his own eyes, Ed had long ago noticed the smoky lust in those orbs of bronze fire. It would only be a matter of time before one of them snapped. The only questions were when, and who would lose patience first. Flames licked through his veins, though the blond was unsure if it was the music, this... entanglement, since dancing didn't quite cover it anymore, or just the proximity to Al that made him so impatient.
For once, it was the brunette who lost his temper first; he abruptly stepped away, practically panting as he asked that all-important question: "Where the hell is the bathroom?"
Like many reasonable things about that night, exactly when and how they had left the Mask escaped Al. However, Ed, not usually so scatterbrained except about dates and deadlines, also admitted to not remembering much. It was all a hazy blur, covered in the warm afterglow that both had come to associate with mind-blowing events that could never, ever be told to anyone else.
Not that either Elric was inclined to share, of course.