Ed/Al. R. ~500 words. Shota. Incest. For Sera.
The first time, Al squeaked in shocked protest, cheeks flushing dark red with shame.
The first time, Al squeaked in shocked protest, cheeks flushing dark red with shame. Water sloshed over the edges of the bath as he scooted away and covered himself. It had been too nice, the way his brother’s bare hands slid smooth and slick with soap over his skin. Ed was warm and soft against his back; he didn’t notice when the steady strokes moved further and further up his thighs, or the slow stirring low in his belly until Ed’s fingers had brushed him there.
The second time, he waited for it. He had watched his brother sleeping at night, thinking about the next time it happened. He’d thought for sure his quick, heavy breaths would wake Ed, or the low groan he’d made when his pyjamas had rubbed him, or the hushed, frantic thrusts of his hips against the mattress when he couldn’t take it anymore.
The second time Ed’s fingers started that slow climb, he couldn’t stop the shivers of anticipation or the steady blush rising on his skin. He hoped Ed didn’t notice, because then maybe his brother wouldn’t touch him again, and he wanted to feel Ed’s hands there so very badly. Al held his breath as water swirled, and then, there, just for a moment, Ed’s fingers brushed his dick. He flushed darker, thinking the words he’d heard others say, thinking he wanted his brother’s hands on his cock. And then Ed touched him again, and his breath left in a rush.
The third time, as Al watched his brother sleep, Ed’s eyes opened and looked straight at him. His own eyes widened in surprise, ready to jerk back when he felt his clothing shift and Ed’s hand press warm and firm on his stomach. He froze, heart pounding, and neither said a word as Ed’s hand dipped lower, slipped under the flimsy pyjamas to find him already hard. His brother touched him, played with him, and all he could do was squirm, biting hard on the sheets to stay quiet.
The fourth time, they took off their clothes under the sheets and looked at each other in the dark. Ed whispered to him, and he crawled over his brother, lay down on top of him and felt the sharp heat of Ed’s hard dick digging into his skin. He felt Ed’s hands on his hips, gasped in shock when those hands grabbed his ass and Ed thrust up against him. When Ed did it again, he moaned and thrust back.
He knew it was wrong. He’d been caught once, by himself, and mother said he shouldn’t do it. He tried not to, but then the nights would pass and he’d cuddle against his brother’s back, and he’d remember what it felt like. And then their clothes would be bundled under the sheets, and Ed’s arms would go around him, and it felt too good to be wrong.