As I looked through my closet, I grumble when I realize there weren't any more clean clothes. Laundry days in my home were far in between. I had plenty of clothes and I could clean them readily with alchemy.

Really the only reason I needed to do laundry was to wash the sheets. I went through a set about once every three or four days. After that, though, they just got too gross. Grumbling, I picked up Al's still form and moved him to the couch. I then stripped the sheets from the bed.

I grumbled as I collected random bits of clothing from the various hampers around the house and dumped them on the floor of the laundry room to be dealt with after breakfast.

"Al. I made your favorite. Waffles with bacon inside." I told him as I helped Al into the kitchen. I had set two places at the table even though I was really the only one with an appetite anymore. I ate everything with as much enthusiasm as I had before Al's...restoration. I still liked to pretend that I had to eat for two people.

I pause when I'm almost done and look across the table at Al. I reach out to touch his cheek and whisper "I'm sorry. The one thing I had to get right, I fucked up pretty badly." I got up and haltingly walked around the table to where Al sat, never breaking physical or eye contact.

Slowly, softly, I press my lips to his. I imagine the taste of waffles and bacon as I kiss him. I imagine I can smell fresh air and cats and the unique smell that is Al. I stroke my hands down his bare chest, the flesh one pausing at his nipple and the metal one sliding down to his stomach and around to the small of his back to rub in the small circles he loved as a little kid.

I feel my self grow hard as I press closer to him. The chair became off balance and tipped over. We landed with a crash on the hard wood of the kitchen floor. "Sorry, Al. Lets move somewhere more comfortable." I suggest.

I quickly make up our bed with the last set of clean sheets. I help Al onto the bed and just for a moment, I think his arms settle around my waist and I am content to just snuggle. But then his arm slides off to land on the blankets with a soft 'fwump'. I start and say "I'm sorry" again.

That seems to set me moving again and I trail my hands up and down his body, rememorizing everything. The smoothness here, the feel of the skin there. My mouth had recaptured his lips, but it didn't stay there. It traveled along his jaw line to his ear and then down his neck until I nipped at his collar bone.

I drew away from him long enough to get the lubricant and to coat a finger in it. I then push the finger inside him, then two. I always make sure to prepare him so he doesn't feel any pain. When I think he's ready, I remove my fingers and coat my length thoroughly. I lined myself up and slowly pushed in. God, no matter how much I stretched him, Al always seems to feel very tight.

I just paused when I was fully inside of him and leaned forward to kiss him again. I break the kiss as I pull out, panting. I set up a slow, gentle rhythm. One that matched Als personality. I placed butterfly kisses anywhere I could reach and my metal hand wandered over his body. My flesh hand lightly brushed over his pubic hair and penis.

Finally I came. I was lost in the mix of orgasm and lust and love and sorrow. I just lay there, still in him, trembling as I waited for the paralysis to pass.

When it did pass, I got up and helped Al into his special bath. I then stripped the sheets. Might as well. I was doing laundry today anyway.

I had a day of cleaning ahead of me. It was just one of those days. I groaned at the prospect of doing laundry. Doing the laundry had to be my least favorite chore, because of the stiff residue the formaldehyde left on sheets and clothes alike.