Disclaimer: FMA? Mine? Don't I wish…

Author's Note: Wow, where to begin? Well, let's make a long story short. This weekend I went to ACen. A voice actor who I like insulted Elricest up to the point where the people I was sitting with, who also liked Elricest, were hurt and embarrassed. I don't mind it when people tell me, courteously, that they dislike my OTP, but he was just plain rude.

So this is for you, Chris Patton. :D

Warnings: Elricest. Religious imagery. Language. Al's PoV. Post-movie. NOT ALL IS POSTED HERE. (SEE NOTE AT END.)

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SWEETEST FRUIT

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The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest…

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Noa is going out tonight—something about holes in her dress and a need for new fabric. My brother and I, who were in the kitchen at the time this announcement was made, nodded and encouraged her to have fun. It's been so long since you got out, Ed commented; Since you work so hard, have a little extra cash, I offered, slipping her a coin; Have some fun, okay? we both chorused. And don't mind us, we'll be fine.

We'll be fine.

So it doesn't surprise me to find the apple on my desk later that afternoon, the glossy fruit all but glowing in the sunlight dancing through my open windows: round, red, and perfect.

I smile at the apple's apparent innocence, sliding into the desk's matching wooden seat as I slip out of my suit coat. The tan jacket falls to the floor with a rumpled rush of air; my attention remains glued to the fruit. Much like my expression of amusement, which remains glued to my face: a glistening reflection on the glass-smooth surface of the apple. But the expression seems warped, somehow… and maybe even a little unnatural in the white radiance of my bedroom.

At least, that's what Brother used to say. Not in so many words, of course, but the point was clear. And I remember it well: the bustle of the busy streets, the smell of exhaust and mud, the over-cast skies as we walked side by side, arms full of groceries.

We'd chat about nothing, joke around, maybe complain…

And then I'd beg for apples.

Genesis 2.17, Edward would whisper whenever we stopped at the fruit vendor, watching me as I pawed through the apple cart. He'd murmur it every time—just loud enough for me to hear. Me, and no one else. I'd pause, cast him a look, and ask for further explanation… but he'd only grin half-heartedly and tell me to hurry up.

Finally, in an act of annoyed desperation, I asked Noa. And it was she who pushed me in the right direction: opening Heiderich's old, worn Bible and flipping me to the only passage my atheist brother had bothered committing to memory:

But of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, thou shalt not eat of it: for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.

The Forbidden Fruit.

In an instant, I knew what he meant. The secret behind his subtle words, soft touches, sideways glances… Not that I had been unaware before, but now I knew the reason for his hesitance.

And as I smile down at the apple currently in my hands, I remember the apple I gave to him that night—the apple to which I'd attached my own passage: Genesis 3.6

The woman saw that the tree was beautiful, and that its fruit was good…

Edward stared at the fruit and the words for what felt like hours, stared at it like I'm staring now—his face full of surprise, relief, hunger, and love. His eyes were as wide and yellow as a Golden Delicious; his face the same soft hues of a Pink Lady.

In the darkness of that long-ago night, the small, cramped kitchen smelt of apple blossoms. And we were unaware of anything else—of Noa, sleeping peacefully in her room; of the city nightlife, the clanking of automobiles and the chatting neighbors who stood just outside our windows; of the crackling fire in the stove, of the heated bands of summer heat, of the way my shoes squeaked as I walked across the hardwood floor…

But we were both fully aware of the sweet taste of apples as our timid lips touched.

In the present, I nearly give a start, not having realized the proximity of the apple and my mouth. Skin brushes skin, teasing and cool. My lips skim smoothly across the fruit's silken surface; I can smell the crisp freshness of autumn in its freckled skin.

My lashes flutter, my heart leaping excitedly in my chest as the signal of what's to come passes over my lips again and again and again and again…

Come, I breathe against the apple, the words echoing in the slowly darkening silence like a spell—like the magic alchemy aspires to be— and partake in the Fruit of Temptation with me.

In his room, the room next to mine, I swear I can hear my brother whisper the same.

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This is only the first section of the fic. The rest, unfortunately, is too much for poor to take. (In other words, it becomes a lemon.) If you wish to finish reading, please go to the ELRICEST LIVEJOURNAL COMMUNITY. You'll be able to find it there, if you're a member.

…which you all totally should be.

Or, if you e-mail me (E-MAIL, NOT PM) I can e-mail you the entire fic. Okay? X3

Thankies!