Faking an injury, if he did it convincingly (and there was a good chance of that), would absolutely work on Edmund if push came to shove (in many sense of the term). He wouldn't be able to resist the chance to take care of Al instead of knock him around. But, well, as long as he was really all right...

Nope, no letting up! Edmund was way too thrilled to be both winning this fight and physically close to his adorable host. Now that he was on top of him, he had no plans on going anywhere soon, no matter how the blond wriggled beneath him, and wasn't that pretty swell, almost--

"Argh!" And that was the cry of pain wrenched from him as Al's knee somehow found his groin. Edmund cringed and shrank back, clutching piteously and thus relinquishing his pinning stance. He really should have been more protective. He was off his game. But he would never admit that he'd been distracted by pretty golden eyes and some wiggly hips. "Al! That was a low blow!" Even if it was mostly his own fault for not moving his lower half out of the way in time. Maybe he'd been doing the opposite, in fact.

And there, Al had an opponent who was quite at his mercy to have their positions reversed and be under Al if he wished. (That didn't sound like such a bad thing either, come to think of it...)