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Jan. 1st, 2012 04:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rapacityinblueTitle: Longing
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Spoilers: End of series, movie.
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: G.
Summary: You can always find the comforts of home in a strange new place. But sometimes you need to stretch a little.
Word Count: 237
Notes: Part of the Way Back Home series. Post-movie, set roughly simultaneously with Toast.
They found his stories cute. Quaint, even, but not real. That was ok, because they weren’t who they looked like and they didn’t know any better. Edward was alone, and though he worked furiously to return himself to his home, he was not homesick.
Tucked into Alphonse’s pockets (when he’d made the leap) had been a spare pair of gloves. Alphonse, who (despite five years of additional memories) had followed him with child-like loyalty (disregard) through the gate. Having someone beside him who saw those faces and understood…
In the night, while Alphonse slept, Ed slunk through his bags until he found them, tucked into a side pocket. Procured items – bleach, warm water, pomegranate dye – and began his work by a dying kerosene dip. Bleach, soak, dry. Repeat. The litany Ed moved his lips to as he completed each step; during the day until Al had asked him, what was he thinking about, Brother?
He sanded the square of wood smooth as silk before he slipped it between the fold of fabric. Clutched the brush tight as he imbued the array he knew too well, let the excess dye seep into the wood beneath. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he felt the threads of flint woven through the stiff-starched fabric.
If Alphonse ever noticed the pair of gloves gone – impossible to believe he hadn’t! – he never said anything to Ed.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Spoilers: End of series, movie.
Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: G.
Summary: You can always find the comforts of home in a strange new place. But sometimes you need to stretch a little.
Word Count: 237
Notes: Part of the Way Back Home series. Post-movie, set roughly simultaneously with Toast.
They found his stories cute. Quaint, even, but not real. That was ok, because they weren’t who they looked like and they didn’t know any better. Edward was alone, and though he worked furiously to return himself to his home, he was not homesick.
Tucked into Alphonse’s pockets (when he’d made the leap) had been a spare pair of gloves. Alphonse, who (despite five years of additional memories) had followed him with child-like loyalty (disregard) through the gate. Having someone beside him who saw those faces and understood…
In the night, while Alphonse slept, Ed slunk through his bags until he found them, tucked into a side pocket. Procured items – bleach, warm water, pomegranate dye – and began his work by a dying kerosene dip. Bleach, soak, dry. Repeat. The litany Ed moved his lips to as he completed each step; during the day until Al had asked him, what was he thinking about, Brother?
He sanded the square of wood smooth as silk before he slipped it between the fold of fabric. Clutched the brush tight as he imbued the array he knew too well, let the excess dye seep into the wood beneath. Sometimes, if he closed his eyes, he could almost pretend he felt the threads of flint woven through the stiff-starched fabric.
If Alphonse ever noticed the pair of gloves gone – impossible to believe he hadn’t! – he never said anything to Ed.