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The night is hot and humid. Edward and Alphonse are alone on the dirt path winding along the river. Even though the sun has long since set, Edward can still feel its lingering heat rising from the ground underneath and hovering in the air around them. Everybody else has retreated to their homes, busy preparing for the early day ahead. The brothers walk in silence, save for the cicadas’ cries and the sounds of their footsteps grinding against the gravel. The evening walk is part of their daily routine, something to help Alphonse get used to having a body again.
It still feels like yesterday when Edward just pulled Alphonse back from beyond the gate, even though two whole years have come and gone. Tomorrow they will set out on different journeys. Alphonse will take the train to Youswell and then on to Xing. Edward, on the other hand, will travel west towards the faraway country of Creta. Ever since they were born, the brothers have always been next to each other and doing everything together. However, that is going to change when they wake up in the morning, and Edward can’t help but feel a little nostalgic about it. When he went to the train station earlier that day, the older brother almost bought two tickets out of habit.
Streetlights are sparse in the countryside, concentrating near the train station and other public buildings. Out here, near the river, the moon serves as the only source of illumination. It casts a silvery sheen on the water surface, which remains perfectly still like a mirror in the windless summer night. The same moonlight is reflected on Alphonse’s damp skin. Beads of sweat glisten as they roll down his temples, trace the soft curve of the now filled out cheeks, and disappear into his collar.
“Still not used to the heat huh, Al?”
“That’s impossible. I can’t even remember how I lived through 10 summers back then,” Alphonse turns to look at Edward as he replies, a faint pink dusting his face and ears. It almost looks like Alphonse is blushing, but Edward knows it’s just the heat.
“The desert is gonna kill you then. It’s 3 times more brutal than this baby Resembool summer.”
“I know. I’m absolutely dreading it.”
“Remember to drink a lot of water. It’ll help.”
“I owe you an apology, brother.”
“For what?”
“I always thought you were being overly dramatic about summers. Look at me now, I don’t even have an automail and I’m already melting.”
“You thought I was just complaining for the heck of it? Really, Al? That’s what you thought of your big brother?”
“It’s not my fault that you complain so much!”
Alphonse sticks his tongue out at Edward before hastily turning around and running away. However, Edward is faster. His left arm instantly wraps around Alphonse’s shoulders from behind, halting the escape attempt before it actually takes off. Under his hold, the younger brother continues to put up a fight by squirming and tossing around, forcing Edward to press down with his body weight.
“Okay okay,” Alphonse raises his arm up, body shaking with laughter, “I give up. You got me.”
“Oh no, you’re not getting off that easily.” Edward says with a smile on his face, “You’ve been really cheeky lately, little brother.”
Edward’s hold remains firm on the headlock while his right hand moves to jab at Alphonse’s side. The body underneath him immediately doubles over at the slightest touch. Edward smirks at the reaction. One of the first things they found out about Alphonse’s body upon getting it back was that he is very sensitive. It was a field day for Edward, and he fully intends to take advantage of that weakness now.
“N-no. That’s not fair, brother,” Alphonse’s voice barely eeks out inbetween bouts of laughter, “not there--”
“Cheeky brats have to be punished!” Edward now uses both of his hands to torture the poor hips. Alphonse tries to say something back, but all that comes out is breathy gasps and choked up laughter. He is quickly reduced to a trembling heap under Edward’s torment.
As their bodies shift against each other, Edward can feel the firmness of Alphonse’s muscles tensing and relaxing underneath his thin shirt. He knew that Alphonse has recovered well when he no longer saw the rib bones sticking out, but to feel the difference so closely, so intimately… Edward gulps down a lump that suddenly appears in his throat. His hands slow down as they move to stroke at the toned abdomen. Alphonse goes still in Edward’s arms, his body still shaking slightly but not from laughter. The body heat pressing against Edward’s skin feels feverish but strangely comfortable, as if it is urging him on. He nuzzles his nose lightly at Alphonse’s earlobes, now flushed with pink at the tips. The fine, blonde hair feels slick against his cheek, and he can’t resist taking a deep breath to take in its smell. For a few seconds, the cicada’s cries seem to be drowned out by the sounds of their breaths and Edward’s heart thumping in his chest.
Like someone remembering something he forgot, Alphonse abruptly breaks free of Edward’s hold and jumps back to his feet. The pink flush has spread all over his face to the back of his neck. Alphonse’s hand automatically goes behind his ears, where Edward notices a slight startle as if it just touched something burning hot.
“You see, I’m really sweaty, so it’s pretty gross right now,” Alphonse speaks quietly, his gaze trained on the ground as if he is talking to the dirt path and not Edward.
“I didn’t mind it.” Edward awkwardly retracts his hands and finds himself mirroring the same motion of touching the back of his neck.
“You know what, there’s something I really wanted to try. Now is the perfect time for it.”
Immediately, Alphonse bolts past Edward without looking back then climbs over the stone fence separating the river from the dirt path. He looks almost like a mad man as he made a beeline for the water and waded straight into it, clothes on and all. Edward stands frozen in his spot, unsure what just happened. It takes 5 seconds for big brother mode to kick in. He runs after Alphonse, a slight panic rising in his chest.
“What the hell are you doing, Al,” Edward shouts, “can you even swim?”
Alphonse has gone further into the river and completely disappeared, which worries Edward even more. His heartbeat accelerates as his mind goes through all the possible scenarios. Should he go back and ask for someone’s help? As much as it embarrasses Edward, water is completely unknown territory for him. With metal for an arm and a leg for most of his adolescent years, he has always made an effort to stay well away from any big bodies of water. The familiar river flowing through Resembool is no exception. What just looked so serene and beautiful in the moonlight a moment ago suddenly reflects vast and scary in Edward’s eyes.
As Edward is trying to shake off the analysis paralysis, the water suddenly erupts into a shower of droplets. Alphonse bursts through the surface with a sharp gasp. His golden gaze hurriedly sweeps around until it spots Edward on the riverbank.
“Wait there. I’ll come back,” Alphonse shouts, then adds more quietly, “Sorry.”
Edward wordlessly nods at his brother’s words, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the need to sit down. His body created a louder thud than expected as it makes contact with the grassy land. From the middle of the river, Alphonse is slowly making his way towards the shore. His arm movements are erratic and uncoordinated, but he seems to be able to keep his head above the water just fine.
Edward’s breathing gradually slows down from the earlier panic, only to quicken again when Alphonse reaches shallower water and more of his form emerges from the river. The moonlight casts a startling clarity upon everything it touches. Edward can suddenly see every fold in Alphonse’s wet shirt as it clings to his chest, and how the toned muscles underneath are rippling rhythmically with each step toward the riverbank. A chill runs through Edward’s spine when he recalls the way they felt against his body earlier.
Alphonse has got out of the water and is walking towards where Edward is sitting. In his state of heightened awareness, the sound of Alphonse’s feet grinding against the river pebbles becomes almost deafening. The humid summer air feels thicker than ever as he watches Alphonse run his hand through the wet golden locks that shimmer under the moonlight. Droplets of water cascade down the sides of his body and outline the taper of his hips.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you worry,” Alphonse says quietly with a slight wince on his face. The normal Edward would smack his little brother on the head and give him a thorough scolding for being so careless, but Edward is not feeling very normal right now. He notices his mouth was hanging open, so he closes it and stands up in one brisk motion.
“It’s alright. Just let me know when you decide to go for a swim next time.”
“I wasn’t going to swim at all. I just,” Alphonse stammered, “It was just so hot, and the river looked like it’d be really cool.”
Edward glances at the dark water, then back to his younger brother. Alphonse is looking at everything except him, and Edward finds himself looking away as well.
“When did you learn how to swim anyway?”
“Oh, I didn’t. Not properly anyway. Remember the summer fair last week?”
“Uh huh.”
“I was just copying what I saw in the swimming contest.”
“Al, are you serious? You could have drowned just now!”
Now that Edward has finally calmed down from… whatever he was feeling, he fully shifts back into big brother mode. The familiar temper bubbles easily in his chest, and he finds himself embracing it a little too quickly. He closes his fist then punches Alphonse squarely in the middle of his head. The little brother lets out an ouch as he dramatically falls to his knees, his hands cradling the imaginary bump. Edward couldn’t help but chuckle at Alphonse’s theatrics. Yes, this is how it should be between them. The practiced normalcy feels soothing and comfortable to Edward, a stark difference to the tumultuous storm that was stomping his heart earlier.
He extends his hand to Alphonse. “Come. Let’s go home and get you dried off.”
Alphonse nods as he reaches out for Edward’s hand, his skin still cool and damp from the river. Edward pulls him up and, just when Alphonse’s fingers are about to loosen, tightens his grip. He begins walking away before the younger brother can question his motive, his feet grinding against the gravel a little harder than intended. Behind him, Alphonse stumbles slightly at first, but quickly regains his footing to catch up.
The two of them walk home in complete silence, hands linking all the way. The cicadas have grown quiet once more, or maybe Edward just notices them less as he thinks about tomorrow. If they are going to be in different countries soon, then surely it’s okay for Edward to indulge a little tonight. He’ll allow himself to be happy with Alphonse’s fingers intertwined between his own for just a little longer.
Just until we reach home, he tells himself again.