DISCLAIMER: Fullmetal Alchemist belongs to Hiromu Arakawa. This fanfic is non-profit.

The Trouble with Preferences

By Scilja

Edward Elric liked many things.

He liked the tingling sensation that coursed through his nerves each time his hands slapped on the ground in a call to alchemy. He liked the rustling sound that came with each page turn of a book, knowing history and worldly knowledge lay in between his hands. He liked the feeling of fulfillment and satisfaction that followed each time he learned something new. He especially liked that feeling in the end times of a duel be it either physically or mentally (especially when it came to a certain arrogant, dark-haired man).

There were no problems when it came to showing his liking for particular objects or situations. One could say that being an alchemist was quite liberating since it offered a great deal of shortcuts in cleaning, laundry, and reconstruction. Many years on the road meant that he was given several opportunities to become fully acquainted with most of the libraries in Amestries. So much so in fact, that he knew by second nature which town to visit to answer whatever questions were itching in the back of his mind.

His bi-weeklyvisit to Central had become a most anticipated event. His interactions with Fuhrer Mustang were becoming so infamous that their meetings eventually had to take place in a large auditorium just to ensure there were enough seats to fit their growing audience. Indeed, he had become well known for being the alchemy geek who could take it out with the Fuhrer. But the problem lay far from his likings.

Edward Elric had a secret.

One lazy afternoon during his youth, he and Al tottered over to the Rockbell house as was their daily routine to convince their neighbor to join in on their latest their latest play. They stepped into the living room and were instantly hit with a heady but sweet aroma. Curious, they followed the scent to the kitchen to find Winry covered in white powder, arms elbow deep in a large plastic bowl.

Ed quirked a brow. "What happened to you, Win?"

Pigtails askew and the left shoulder strap of her blue checkered dress sloping down her arm, her furrowed brow smoothed over upon seeing her childhood playmates. With a toothy smile, she fanned chocolate covered fingers at him. "Fudge brownies."

She moved fast, rounding the table and dashed towards them. He started when he felt something cold land on his face. At her giggles, he crossed his eyes to find chocolate batter on the tip of his nose.

"Hey!"

"Gotcha!" She laughed harder when he grunted. "You're too slow, Ed."

Then she leaned over and licked the chocolate off.

His body reacted by coming to a standstill, eyes widened and chest suddenly too tight, he wouldn't dare move. Winry merely grinned and said, "Told 'ya you were slow."

Since that day, each time Ed found himself back in Winry's house during his travels, he would secretly hope she would be making fudge brownies or at least something that involved a lot of icing and batter. Of course, extensive automail repair usually followed his visits, and with their constant race against time, fitting in fudge brownies into the schedule was a rather difficult maneuver.

But he had underestimated her element of surprise once again.

They had arrived from Central one cold night to spend the holidays with the Rockbells. Exhausted from the train ride, he immediately plopped down unto the nearest available surface and took a long nap. The consequence of having not eaten in five hours woke him in the late evening. A rich smell welcomed him. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he stretched his sleep-numb muscles and went to investigate.

Winry had her back turned to him, clothed in starry blue pajamas, humming an odd melody while stirring a porcelain bowl. She reached for a strawberry from the fruit platter next to her and dipped it into the bowl. The strawberry came up coated in a dark liquid he assumed to be chocolate. She bit into the fruit, prompting a delightful moan that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. It was like watching something forbidden happen and he wasn't sure what do do with himself.

"Can I try some?"

The corners of his lips lifted when she started, the strawberry nearly fumbling in her hand. He never got tired of teasing her. She rolled her eyes as he approached, turning to him. "You want to try the fondue?"

He peered over her shoulder, eyeing the bowl contents. "Is that what it's called? Why not just melted chocolate?"

She gave a lopsided shrug and passed him a toothpick-pierced strawberry. "Sounds more exotic that way, I guess." She stepped to the side and gestured towards the bowl. "Go nuts."

The instant the strawberry and chocolate touched his tongue, he nearly let out a groan of pure delight but quickly decided against it and opted to quietly savor the intense flavor.

Her smile almost appeared cunning. "Good, huh?"

He nodded, pleased that the chocolate lingered heavily on his tongue. "Quite."

A small sigh escaped her lips, her eyes twinkling as she shook her head. "Same as ever."

Before he could ask what she meant, she neared her mouth to his and flicked her tongue along his lips. The moment was gone before he could grasp it, leaving him to do nothing but gape at her retreating form.

"You had some on your lip."

That incident triggered the beginnings of a terrible chocolate addiction.

No-one knew of it – although Al might have had a suspicion from the empty wrappers in the trash during their overnight stays. If anyone had found out about it, his image would plunge to the throes of Mustang's neverending mockery, so he kept it discretely under lock and key. The secret had been kept well hidden by the use of his red cloak where several pockets lined the inside, each filled with various goodies. Bite-sized goodies, of course, so as to prevent bulges in the fabric and to minimize any scrutiny.

Then it just got worse.

Six months after Ed had successfully restored his and Al's body back to its original form, and almost four months since he and Winry had come to terms with their relationship, he moved into the automail shop she successfully ran in Rushvalley. It also happened to act as a convenient location for him to continue his work in Central without having to take the train.

During the sparse periods between his research and paperwork, he occasionally watched Winry flutter around her workshop, tinkering or clanging away. He knew that they both shared the same passion for their work, often drifting into their own worlds. In fact, that was how he had discovered a small quirk of hers.

She tended to stick things in her mouth.

When her hands were preoccupied, the next available grasping position rested on her teeth. Screws, nuts, bolts, and picks placed themselves on a temporary shelf between her pearly whites. While it would have been a practical oddity due to the numerous parts she had to deal with, more discerning to him was the possibility of lead poisoning. So one day he tossed her a container of chocolate-dipped breadstick.

"What is this?" she asked, peering at it from under her work lamp.

"It's good," he assured. "Tastes better than metal."

She gave him an dubious glance before drawing out one finger thick stick, dipped it into the chocolate, and gave a tentative lick.

He grinned when her eyes lidded, a soft hum from her throat. She always did have a sweet tooth. The breadstick dunked again into the icing, a hefty scoop plunged into her mouth and she was gone.

He watched, mesmerized, as her pink tongue swirled on the snack, then it delved into her mouth as she sucked half the length and the now bare breadstick left her mouth, slick and glistening. Everything suddenly seemed too hot, too much, too hard.

She tilt her head, smiling and eyes sparkling because she knew him much too well. "You're right. It's yummy."

Growling, he filled her mouth with his, proving to her he can outdo any snack any time. Needless to say, she now had a shelf fully stacked of Bebo's Chocolate Dip Breadsticks.

Days later, he ambled into the kitchen rubbing sleep from his eyes and grunted acknowledgement at his roommate's presence.

"Good morning sleepy head." She smiled to his groggy greeting. "Would you like milk for breakfast?"

"Do you have to torture me so early in the morning?" His scowl would have been more effective if he wasn't still dazed with sleep.

"If I didn't then you know something's not right." Winry placed the glass on the wooden table and nudged it towards him.

Ed propped his chin against his palm, peeking at her from the corner of his eyes, "You're wasting your time, you know."

"It goes with what I'm making," she sing-songed, tapped the side of the glass playfully and sauntered back to the kitchen counter.

He watched a water droplet slide down the cool drink then shifted his gaze to the shuffling noises from Winry's direction. "What are you doing?"

A soft pop resounded when she pulled out a finger from her mouth. "Making fudge."

"What kind?"

"Chocolate."

The chair scrapped across the floor as he rose from his seat and moved to stand next to her.

"I suppose you want to try it?" she said without removing her gaze from the freshly mixed batch.

"I suppose I do."

"You have to wait a while for it to settle."

"Have you tried it yet?"

"I have," she looked up at him, "why do you a–"

His mouth descended on hers and he felt smug satisfaction at her surprised squeak. The small nips and licks he showered on her lips eased the tension from her shoulders, leading her arms to link around his neck and his around her waist. At the suggestive flick of his tongue, her lips unconsciously parted open and he explored her without hesitation.

They soon parted for air, clinging to each other. He took that time to drink in her flushed appearance, eyes dreamlike, lips swollen and pink, and cheeks streaked with a rosy tint which bloomed when he grinned and said, "Tastes good."

He should have realized then that whenever chocolate came into the picture, he was bound to have a heart attack.

Being wed entitled him a fair share of off days from Central, a privilege he took full advantage of if his and Winry's intimacy being at least twice a day was any indication.

The house was comfortably quiet save for the rhythmic crackling from the fireplace and the distant ticks of an antique clock. They lounged on the couch that autumn evening, she dressed in one of his old button down shirts and pajama bottoms, and he in a white sweater and wash-worn jeans. Conversation was light, centering from the brunt of daily life to what size marshmallow went best with hot beverages.

In odd timing, Winry decided to crave vanilla ice cream so she extracted her entangled limbs from his to go fetch some in the fridge. He watched her, eyes alight with simple joy, carrying a bowl with what appeared to be least three ice cream scoops in one hand and two spoons in the other. She set down the items on the table surface then abruptly snapped upright saying, "I can't believe I forgot!" and dashed back to the kitchen.

He was just about to eat a spoonful's worth when Winry returned and quickly said, "Ed! You can't eat ice cream without putting this on it first!"

He bit into it anyway and swallowed. "Nothing wrong with it plain."

"True, but it's just not the same without it."

He finally took a good look at the object she held and raised a brow. "Chocolate syrup?"

Snapping the plastic cap off and pulling on the spout, she quipped, "Good to know your vision hasn't failed you yet." The bottle turned upside down, hovering above the ice cream. Nothing. Winry wrinkled her nose and firmly shook the bottle. Still nothing. She gave the base a hard pat and another shake then huffed when not a single drop came out.

"Here. Let me."

She looked at him carefully before handing it over. One fine brow raised when his hands moved in a stance that indicated an oncoming alchemy act. By the time the bright light faded, Ed was holding the bottle out to her. "Try it again."

Not wanting to have a repeat performance, she turned the bottle over, hands in position to give a good squeeze and thrust it downwards. Unfortunately, she had forgotten that the spout had not been pulled back, resulting in a spray of chocolate syrup splattering all over her bottom half and unto an unsuspecting Ed.

A yelp and a jerk, Ed looked down to see a chocolate web painted on his sweater. Winry had chocolate streaks wrung around her torso and lines patterning her pants.

"Well, at least now I can say I've been bathed in chocolate."

He snorted. "I didn't know that was one of your lifetime goals."

Scoffing, she scrunched her nose and picked at the front of her blouse. "Comes second to diving into a pool of rainbow jelly."

Knowing the sweater deemed a hopeless cause, he stripped it off his body and carefully folded it as to prevent the syrup from staining the furniture. His gaze flickered to the side and he nearly choked on his own breath.

Winry had removed her blouse to reveal a very thin, not to mention form fitting, tank top that did nothing to hide the very feminine but toned form she developed as a mechanic. The light from the fire played with the shadows on her body, accenting the curves of her breasts to the arch of her lower back. The pajama pants had been rolled up to join his discarded sweater, leaving only white bikini shorts. Her legs lay akimbo to the side, long and slim which he knew very well to be silky to touch. Faced away from him on the table top, she was now gathering her hair into a loose bun, giving him an enticing view of her backside.

He didn't know backs could be so damn sexy.

Her voice snapped him out of his silent exploration. "Ugh, I feel so sticky," her arms moved in a slapdash fashion, "I need a shower."

She began to rise off the table only to be tugged backwards and fall unto his lap.

An arm wove around her to press her back against him, warm and wonderfully soft. "Ed," she laughed on a breath when he nuzzled her nape. "Ed, I mean it."

It took a great amount of his control not to react to her wonderfully squirming bottom against a sensitive region of anatomy. He nipped at the spot behind her ear, smiling when she gasped in response and husked, "I know a better way to clean up."

She sighed at the feel of his mouth trailing kisses along the curve of her shoulder. The path veered to her collarbone, her fingers laced through his hair anxiously at the playful teasing of his tongue against her fevered skin. His breath tickled her jaw, she responded by arching her neck back and tilt her head to let his lips lock with hers. Some breathless gasps and languidly wet kisses later, she found herself pinned underneath fiery golden eyes clouded with a tumbling passion that both nerved and excited her.

His mouth curved into a mischievous grin. She soon discovered the cause for that when his fingers smudged across her lips. After a tentative outward tongue flick, she blinked, "Chocolate syrup?"

The grin broadened into something more devilish. He leaned forward so his lips tickled the rim of her ear, "I always wanted to know how you tasted as a fudge sundae."

Suffice to say, the bottle had been emptied in minutes and the showers very much delayed until the next morning. He chuckled at the memory of the beige velvet couch, its pristine state lost to chocolate smudges and streaks.

The day after, a great deal of blushing and eye-contact avoidance came when the delivery personnel arrived to replace the old couch with a new black leather one.

This addiction was something he could definitely live with.

END.

From the Desk of Scilja:

I love EdxWin, and this began about a year ago when my friend finally thrust me into the FMA world. I've always wanted to do something in commemoration for a wonderful couple as they whose story weaves deep like no other, and now I am incredibly happy I made this fic. I hope this story shows my love for the two. Reviews are Love :)