It happened not too long after they moved to America. There was an ear-splitting noise like a gunshot, and Al screamed.

Ed felt his blood run cold. The noise had come from outside, where Al was taking down their laundry…

In a split second, Ed had thrown his book into a messy heap of paper on the floor, rocketing off their bed and down the hall.

“Al!” he screamed, racing out the back door. “Al, where are you?!”

“O-Over here,” a tiny voice replied from the side of the house.

Ed ran to his brother, crouching beside him. Al was sitting with his knees against his chest, his silver eyes wide and filled with tears.

Ed grabbed Al’s shoulders, wrapping him in a hug. “Are you okay?!” he exclaimed, panic clear in his voice. “What happened?!”

Al clung to his shirt. “There was a l-loud sound,” he whimpered. “And then there were all these sparks in the sky.” He trembled, and Ed automatically held him tighter.

“Sparks?” Ed echoed, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Just sparks!” Al cried. “They were bright and yellow.”

Ed kissed the top of Al’s hair, his fear ebbing away, though he still refused to let go of his younger brother. “Well, they’re gone now,” he whispered reassuringly. “Now, let’s get you in-”

Another loud exploding noise cut him off, and Al burst into tears again. This time, Ed looked to the skies, seeing Al’s feared sparks with his own eyes.

His face broke into a smile.

“Oh, Al,” he laughed softly, rubbing his brother’s back. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Are you crazy?” Al shrieked. “It sounds like someone’s setting off bombs!”

“They’re not bombs.” Ed’s grin widened. “They’re fireworks.”

Al looked up. “What?”

“Fireworks,” Ed repeated. “People set them off for celebrations. They’re not dangerous…at least not for us. They’re just loud…and, you know…explody.”

Al wiped his eyes on Ed’s shirt. Ed pretended not to notice.

“They’re not bombs?” he whispered.

“Not bombs,” Ed promised.

Al looked at the sky, barely flinching this time as another firework went off.

“How do you know all this, Brother?” Al asked quietly.

“Alfons Heiderich told me. We went to see some in Hamburg.”

Al bit his lip like he always did when they talked about his dead doppelganger, but the moment passed. “But why are people celebrating today? I thought it was just a Monday.”

“I dunno. What’s the date?”

“I think it’s July 4th.”

“Huh. Maybe it’s some weird American holiday we don’t know about.”

Al cracked a smile. “You think everything American is weird.”

“And I’m always right.”

Al rested his cheek against Ed’s chest, watching more of the bright yellow sparks light up the night. “Now that I know what they are, they’re kind of exciting,” Al admitted softly.

Ed squeezed him closer. “And romantic,” he added, smirking. “There were tons of couples kissing in Hamburg.”

Al flushed, meeting Ed’s eyes hesitantly. “R-Really?” he stammered, sounding embarrassed.

“Really,” Ed repeated, before claiming Al’s lips as his own.

It wasn’t their first kiss, but it was as real and amazing as always. Something seemed to explode inside Ed, and soon his fingers were tangling themselves in Al’s loose hair, Al’s hands gripping his shoulders.

When they broke their kiss moments later, both were panting. Al’s face was still flushed, but a wide smile spread across his lips. He pressed a slender hand to his own chest, giving Ed a sly look.

“Fireworks,” he stated simply, and Ed knew exactly what he meant.