dracoqueen22 | Flash Fiction Fills (Take 30) Part Four

a/n: Here are two more flash fiction which means I've got two left. Phew. Please enjoy!

For hockeyiris
Prompt: RoyxMaes, “you broke it”

Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist. Warnings: angst and fluff in heavy doses

It's a recurring nightmare, but every sensation is as fresh as the day he lived it.

Blood, dull and coppery, bright against the desert sand. The harsh ringing of explosions. A child's scream. Terror in foreign eyes. Desperation.

The fear in his own heart. Sweaty palms. Palpitations. Breathing ragged. Just a child himself. Playing dress-up in a man's game.

Words in a foreign tongue. Heavy and unfamiliar on his tongue, probably incomprehensible. The crackle of gunfire. A kneejerk reaction. The rasp of special fabric. A snap. Orange flame splits the dawn.

And Roy wakes up shouting. He's covered in sweat, staring blankly into the dark, trembling from head to toe. It's too damn hot so he throws back the blankets. Above the ceiling fan churns a lazy puff of air on his damp skin. He shivers, feeling vulnerable in his nudity.

Roy wipes a hand down his face, heart hammering in his chest. He swallows thickly, still tasting ash and grit on his tongue. Phantom sensations.

“Roy?” Maes' voice is still thick with sleep.

“It's nothing.” His own voice is strained, hoarse, betraying his anxiety.

“Liar.” More alert now, Maes has always had a sixth sense for knowing when something is wrong. Especially when it comes to Roy.

“It was just a dream.” A memory of a terrible reality. “Go back to sleep.”

“No.” Stubborn to a fault, Maes is. He rolls over and even in the dark, Roy can tell that Maes is watching him. “Talk to me, Roy.”

He sighs. “It's nothing you don't already know.” He flops back down to the bed, curling on his side, staring away from his best friend and lover.

“Tell me how I can help.”

Roy closes his eyes, breathes in and out, trying to calm himself. “There's no helping me.”

Silence sweeps into the bedroom and Roy feels the bed shift. “I'll make some coffee,” Maes offers softly, his tone holding an edge of disappointment.

Roy turns over, quick as a snap, his hand snatching out and curling around Maes' arm. “No coffee.” He struggles to catch Maes' eyes in the dark. “Stay.”

No argument is offered. Maes lays back down beside Roy, pulling the alchemist into his arms. “I can't stay forever, you know.”

Roy curls closer to him, tucking his head under Maes' chin, listening to his heartbeat. “Just for now is fine.”

Maes' arms are a protective, warm barrier around him. “I'm only a bandage, Roy. You need to try healing.”

He inhales the lingering scent of cologne on Maes' throat, memorizing all the little details. “Maybe tomorrow.”

Roy closes his eyes and sees the past again. Maybe this time he can stop himself. Maybe this time, it'll be different.

And maybe he'll wake up in the morning with Maes still beside him.

A man can only dream.

For fuzipenguin
Prompt: “Like Whoa,” by Aly and AJ, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe

Fandom: Transformers G1. Warnings: twincest

Sunstreaker's fast, but Sideswipe's faster. It's by a bare margin, but just enough to keep Sideswipe ahead of his twin, speeding down the open road with the wind roaring over him and setting his sensory net aflame.

He can feel Sunstreaker chasing him down, feet from his bumper, tires screeching over concrete. Sideswipe is giddy with excitement. Giddy and something else, something a lot like arousal that's making his engine growl and thrum. He puts on another burst of speed, taunting, daring his brother to follow.

Catch me if ya can, his speed says.

He's long since dismissed every one of Prowl's furious comms to slow down and obey human traffic laws. He's sure that both he and Sunstreaker are going to be in a brig for a month by the time they get back. But it's worth it. Frag yes, it'll be worth it.

Sideswipe takes a corner too hard and nearly loses control, skidding off the pavement and into the open plain. He kicks up dust into the air, refusing to let himself get caught so easily. If he could just make it to that rock formation, they'll at least be out of plain sight.

Behind him, Sunstreaker executes a perfect swerve and takes off after him, the rumble of his engine enough to make Sideswipe's systems send more charge crackling through him. Anticipation throbs through his spark, hot and heavy. The uneven landscape jars his undercarriage. He's losing speed.

Sideswipe's fast, but Sunstreaker's heavier. He's got better traction. And for once, he doesn't even care about his paintjob. If the irritation coming across their link is any indication, Sideswipe's in for it when he finally gets caught. Payback for the dirt.

Sideswipe can't wait.

“Getting slower in your old age, Sunny!” he calls out, just because he's not happy if he's not pissing his brother off.

“You can't run forever,” Sunstreaker replies, tone cool but unable to hide the anticipation in his energy field either.

Sideswipe laughs, gun his engine, only to yelp when a dry bush appears in front of him. He swerves to avoid, right tire catching on a small pit in the landscape, and gets sent flying. Whoops.

Instinct forces him into root mode and battle agility puts him back on his pedes before he tumbles head over heels and finally lands in a sprawl on his back, jarred but unharmed. In a history of wipeouts, that one hardly counts as a three.

Dazed, he has maybe a second to think about scrambling back to his pedes to keep the chase going before he hears the unmistakable growl of a high performance engine. And then the sun is blocked out by a gleaming yellow frame and Sideswipe is pinned.

“You!” Sunstreaker huffs, optics a bright streak of arousal-irritation-concern.

Sideswipe laughs and tries to roll out from under Sunstreaker, but as stated before, Sunstreaker's heavier. And faster when his processor's not just been jarred by a wipeout. He grabs Sideswipe's wrists, slamming them down into the dirt, dropping the force of his weight down on Sideswipe's chassis.

“Stay,” Sunstreaker says, exventing loudly, his plating vibrating from amped up charge, his energy field fluctuating with need.

Sideswipe grins and shoves a hard pulse of want-now-need at his brother, bucking up to slide plating against plating in delicious friction. “Not going anywhere,” he promises. “C'mon, Sunny.”

“Don't call me that,” his twin replies and leans closer, their faces in tantalizing proximity. “And no, it's not going to be that easy. You're going to have to beg for it.”

Oh, boy. It's going to be a long day. Sideswipe's going to love every minute of it.

a/n: Angst and then a bit of teasing to make up for it. :)

Sharp-eyed readers might notice that I've postponed the next flash fiction Friday until June. The reasoning behind this is that I've got about... ohhh 300 words written on my BigBang fic which will be due by the end of July and yeah, I need to get off my aft on that.