SUGAR COOKIES AND MEMORIES

Disclaimers: I don't own FMA.

A/N: Alright. I went looking for smut and all I found was Winry pregnant and Ed returning from Munich to be a daddy, and both of them crying and exchanging "I love you"s, and not that I have a problem with that, it's just that I am having flashbacks and I WANT SMUT. D: So. I am making some. :3

Now, I was about to make this depressing; cruel and ass-kicking like life (and the ending of the FMA anime series/movie) really is, with two people who desperately want to be together separated and longing for one single touch. Buuuut. Just pure smut is better. So, I am doing this in my own little "universe" or whatever. Who knows? I might just give myself ideas for an Experimenation II?

x3 Be prepared for anything.

ALSO.

I know that some of the people who will be reading this are probably (hopefully) waiting for an update on Experimentation. Yeah. I miss that one, too. But…for some reason, it's just not one of my top priorities anymore. The latest chapters's subjects that I'm trying to write is sending me too many memories. Memories I don't want. Yeah. Emo little me! Dx Whatever. I'll work on it eventually. Sometimes, life overrides fandom.

(© October Fall for the title. :D)

Extremely slight spoilers of the manga, as this is post-manga – therefore, Edward has his limbs back, and Alphonse has his own body as well.

Any typos, please excuse.

-

Keep Dreaming Upside Down

-

He wasn't a Roy Mustang kind of guy. But he wasn't exactly an Alphonse Elric kind of guy, either. He was just…a guy. A nineteen-year-old, ex-state alchemist, older brother, dorky best friend kind of guy. Sure, he knew that he was pretty damn good-looking, but he wasn't like that conceited, pompous bastard at Central HQ. The asshole was now just a few minor ranks away from hitting Führer; each time that notion passed across his mind, Edward smirked and shuddered at once. Who could imagine that arrogant jerk as the leader of the country? He would probably pass a law that stated that no woman could wear pants until the end of his terms.

No, he wasn't like him at all; he didn't know that he was good-looking, and then strut around and inform people of it. He knew it, sure, but he was humble. And just determining himself humble made him feel supercilious; he didn't like that much.

His brother, Alphonse, was too coy and entirely modest, quiet, petite, mouse-like, and all around a polite little guy; he was sometimes too nice for his own good, Edward supposed. Yes, his brother had gotten looks from girls lately, and who could blame them, he'd figured. Ever since the transmutation a few years back, Alphonse had fucking sprouted. (And, as the older Elric's theory had proven correct, Edward's appetite and sleeping cycles had decreased slightly, from those of a bear to those of a wolf.) It gave Ed an almost fatherly satisfaction – and who could blame him for that emotion? After all, he had essentially raised his brother, hadn't he?

Sure, Alphonse was oblivious to it all. His gently choppy strawberry-blonde hair had tinted a darker in the past couple months, and his normally milky skin had darkened a bit in turn. Alphonse had always been a bit taller than Edward; and when Ed had shot up two inches, Al had just a few months later. He was leaner, more muscular; his voice was deeper and his facial expressions were still as childish as ever – but they had as well gained a seriousness that all adolescents must some day manage to become what they inevitably will. He was helpful and he was happy, laughing and friendly and lighthearted. Innocent. That was it, innocent. Despite growing older, Alphonse Elric had remained innocent.

Edward had noticed numerous girls in Central watching as they both strolled down the cobble sidewalks, on their way to work or to the store, or maybe just out on a walk to have some fun. The two did that a lot often. One girl had even gone so far as to pull Edward aside as Al chatted with a cashier and exchanged sens for the meat for dinner, to ask him "where she might stumble upon his older brother" again.

Oh. Yes. Edward had been mad. He had sulked all the way home, promptly called Winry up when they got back to their apartment, and grumbled and ranted and pouted to her amusement. Alphonse was as utterly oblivious to his suitors as Winry informed Edward he was. She had told him after he was finished throwing a fit on the other line, that she was the Ed in the situation; she would be walking with him at some point in the week, when he and Alphonse came back to Risembool for the weekend maybe, and she would notice – she did not enlighten him on how thoroughly pissed this made her, how absolutely seething – the looks he would receive from girls in town, daughters of customers, etcetera, etcetera. She would sit and she would watch them eat him up with their wide eyes, watch them flaunt their (very tiny) breasts, show off their legs in shorts or skirts, fluff their hair and giggle. Giggle, smile, bat your lashes, turn, and do it again. Edward had accused her of lying, and she had sworn she wasn't.

Thus, Edward assumed there were three types of men: the kind who were good-hearted and oblivious, the kind who weren't ignorant and incredibly ostentatious, and the kind who were a mix of the two. And, he supposed, there were three of nearly equivalent types of women, as well; but, he wasn't up for delving into that subject at the moment.

At the moment, he was lying in bed with his arms folded beneath his pillow, his face buried into the softness it, eyes shut tight, breathing deeply, his shoulders rising and lowering heavily with his breath. He could hear his younger brother in the kitchen of their tiny apartment, doing something with dishes to make them clink together, scanning the radio stations at the same time. He had opened the curtains in their shared bedroom and the light was hitting Edward's side of the room in malicious beams of bright white sun. His heart's previous hammering was beginning to weaken and the pinching of his lower stomach was throbbing dully.

He thought frantically, thumbing in his mental file for anything that would work, any plan, plan A, B, fucking Z, whatever he could find – and finally he did stumble on something, and he supposed it might be sufficient.

"Alphonse," he called dimly. He heard something hit the tabletop gently, heard soft footsteps and imagined each one as they fell. The door opened swiftly and his slim, adult-looking brother stood in the doorway. Edward peeked out at him from the folds of his pillow. His eyes narrowed childishly.

"What?" Al said, blinking, seeming a bit bemused by the glare he was now receiving. "Didn't you call me? What?"

"Yes, I called you. I have a headache. The light hurts. Get me a cloth and a big glass of ice, please."

Alphonse regarded him a moment, and then blinked rapidly, bobbing his head up and down obediently. He turned and the sound of fumbling in the kitchen resonated. Edward's lips twitched against the pillow case. He fidgeted, swiveling his hips amongst the feather comforter enveloping his body from the ribs down.

His younger brother returned with the items demanded, setting them down on the Edward's bedside table. His brows furrowed gently and he leaned down, resting his hands on his knees. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ed grunted, lifting a hand and shooing his brother away. Alphonse refused for a moment, moving back Edward's hair and touching his forehead and cheeks lightly. Satisfied, he straightened up and crossed his arms, peering down at his idle sibling with the look of a knowledgeable caregiver.

"Did you drink again?"

"No," Edward replied, rolling his eyes around before settling them on Alphonse's auburn ones. "I did not, Mother."

"Have you eaten anything…spoiled?"

"I just drank out of the milk carton the other day. It was kind of chunky. Maybe it was curdled. Do you think so? No, Al, I didn't eat anything spoiled. I just have a headache. Maybe I'm getting a cold," Edward snapped, lip curling in disregard.

Alphonse curled into his famous, sweet-as-sugar smile, nodding curtly. "Yeah. Probably, you idiot." He then turned, waved, and laughed as he closed the door. Edward waited, face hidden, until he was entirely sure that his brother was occupied: the radio stations were flicking again, and at one point they stopped altogether and he heard Alphonse calling to somebody, most likely someone he recognized on the street. Ed smiled faintly. He could see his younger brother opening the window more, leaning out into the August sunshine, waving and laughing and talking with someone on the walk three stories down.

The blonde boy sat up rapidly, a grim, determined look on his face. He threw the bedding off his lower half and swung his legs out of the pocket of warmth, letting his feet rest on the floor and bounce edgily.

Edward snatched up the glass of ice, bit his lip, hooked a thumb in the waist of his boxers, yanked them forward, and promptly dumped the crushed ice cubes down into his lap.

-

Things had to change. Something had to be done, or he supposed that both he and Winry would go completely insane.

Alphonse had gone to work already. His hours were nine o'clock am to one thirty pm at the pet groomers and veterinary stop a few blocks away, then two o'clock to nine o'clock pm at the bookstore at the end of the street; which was fine, as Edward usually stopped by the bookstore on his way to his own job. He waited tables at a restaurant on South Giradle from five pm to midnight.

It was nine thirty in the morning, and he was sitting topless, alone, in an apartment he shared with his brother, pushing food around in his bowl. He'd turned the radio off when he'd gotten up, and Alphonse had been rushing out the door, telling him he'd made more coffee if he'd wanted some.

Hah. If he wanted some.

Edward had already had three cups by the time he made his breakfast, and was working on his fourth as he sat at the table thinking. The leftovers in his bowl were getting cold. He set his fork down, lifted his mug of coffee to his lips, and leaned back in his chair, staring intently at the front door as his thoughts wrestled around within his blonde-haired cranium.

It was steady and it was inexplicable. It was there, and it always had been. Both he and she knew that. He supposed she knew it more than he did, but he did know it. He did.

Winry Rockbell and Edward Elric had…a thing. They'd grown up next to each other, had been together – well, separated by a bit of distance, but still living and thinking and breathing – for nearly two decades now. They'd been best friends since they were able to comprehend the notion of being best friends with somebody. They'd shared dark secrets and memories that even his brother and he hadn't shared yet. When they were thirteen, they'd both sat and talked seriously for an hour or two out on the back porch of her yellow house; they'd talked about people and mentalities and sexuality. They both knew for sure that there was something more between the two of them, but somehow their growing relationship had dwindled down after the transmutation of Alphonse's body and soul.

Maybe, because afterwards, the two had moved into Central and only visited the Rockbell house on weekends. Maybe because after that, the Elric brothers found they could now move on and grow up and live, and now they were nearly full adults and had jobs and a residence and things to occupy their time.

It was Thursday morning, August 12, 1918, in Central City, Amestris. The radio was playing a popular song by the latest big bang in the music industry. Lily Said by The VerityBops. Amestris was prospering and was twice as large as it had been years ago. Risembool had also flourished, and now had it's own direct train route, one that went straight to the little city and then came straight back, no stops and no detours. It was a main line now, and Risembool wasn't just a spec on the map anymore. People knew about it. People acknowledged it as a real, progressing Amestris city.

Either way, the Elrics's weekends belonged to a blonde girl living alone in a big house in a maturing city in the middle of nowhere, and had belonged to her for two years straight. Alphonse would normally retire with a book in the living room after dinner, whereas Winry would lead Edward up the stairs into her bedroom, where the two would sit and talk and usually do more.

But for some reason, both had avoided the topic of what they were to do with each other. Yes, it was unspoken and it was predetermined, they both knew as surely as they knew they were alive, that they were supposed to be together. But now that the waiting was over, and they were allowed to be together, what were they supposed to do? Winry was still running a (very successful) automail business and was raking it in as well as she could; not like she had any extra expenses to pay but bills and personal desires. She was well off, and both the Elric boys were as well.

Winry had told him that she loved him, multiple times. He had told her as well, not as many times, but with what times he told her he was sure she knew he was telling the truth. The way that she looked at him made him feel elated, made him feel as if something like heaven truly existed. The way she felt in his arms was perfect, as if she had been molded by some overpowering force to fit precisely against him. They held hands, sure. They kissed, sure. They loved each other, oh, fuck, sure. They wanted to live together, sure.

But there was something there that was keeping them from moving on with their relationship, as desperately much as they wanted to already.

Edward stretched into a wide yawn, arms splaying out slowly, setting his cup down atop the table. Blinking sleepily, his eyes fell upon the ceiling, and he fidgeted around in his chair some, crossing his arms upon his chest and lifting a leg up to rest his foot on the seat of his chair beside his thigh. A breeze fluttered in through the open window and dusted hair back from his cheek, tickling along the curves of his ear.

He froze.

Closing his eyes again, he pressed his lips together in a tight line. The wind smoothed along his cheek now, but his heart was pounding against his ribcage. He gave up on his logical thoughts for the moment, his memory racing back to the previous Sunday night. Winry had done something she'd down rarely before, and he had loved it; she had crawled onto his lap and straddled on him on the couch in the den; she had leaned down and had kissed and nibbled and blown into his ear.

It had driven him crazy.

CRAZY.

She had giggled slyly at him, pressing his shoulders down as he twisted beneath her. She had moved to his other ear and whispered hotly, "Your hips are moving an awful lot, Edward…" He had groaned and squirmed around more, telling her to stop being horrible.

For four nights now, Sunday night, Monday night, Tuesday night, and Wednesday night, he had been having dreams that he'd been waking up from with the worst fucking morningwood that any guy could experience out of the pubescent years. In his dreams, Sunday night was finished – each night in different ways.

This last night had been the most intense. In his dreaming mind, he'd shoved her off of him, rolled on top of her, and explored her mouth with his tongue, his fingers moving up and down her body with an experience that he didn't know he had. She was moaning, rocking up and down beneath him; he was working at her neck and groping at her breasts with one hand, groping at her crotch with the other. She was spreading her legs and bucking up on him, he was grinding down on her and feeling the warmth and wetness of her pussy, the shuddering of her body, the moist, heavy panting of her lips pressed to his ear. In his dreams she found his growing erection and was massaging it roughly through his pants as he fingered her clit, and just before they both came

he woke up.

With a huge hard-on.

Edward slumped forward again, dropping his foot and resting his elbows on the table, holding his face in his palms. Taking a deep breath, he sighed, wondering what was going to happen tomorrow morning.

And then it hit him.

Sitting up straight, he shoved backwards from the table, rattling the dishes atop it. Shooting up off the chair, Edward hurried towards the telephone, his eyes wide, his heart rattling in his chest as his thoughts rolled over his latest theory.

When the other line picked up, the blonde man turned slightly and looked into the mirror beside the front door, brows rising at his half-naked reflection. "Hey," he said breathlessly into the phone reciever. "I need to take today and tomorrow off. I promise I'll make it up next week."

-

The train lurched as it stopped at the Risembool station. He leaned forward, tapping another passenger's shoulder. "Excuse me," he muttered. "What time is it?"

The man looked at his wristwatch, then turned back to Edward. "Eleven forty-five," he grumbled.

"Thanks," the blonde grunted, hoisting his bag up onto his shoulder. The train jerked again, and the doors opened with a long, sharp whistle. There were less than twenty passengers in the car he had boarded; after all, who wants to be on a train this late on a weekday evening? He got out onto the platform within thirty easy seconds. He swung his arms with a nonchalance that was turning more and more into an eagerness rarely seen in near-adults, but mostly seen in five year olds at a fair. Edward whistled softly as he strode out of the train station, crossed the newly added, freshly cobbled Main Street, and stomped through weeds and tall grasses for a few seconds until he was on the (mostly forgotten now) old dirt road that led off directly through the hills towards the Rockbell House.

It was obviously dark, but the sky was clear, and crickets sang amongst the tall grasses to either side of him. Edward shoved his hands into his pockets and strolled along the rutted dirt, watching the stars above his head. Was it really just three years ago, that he and his brother had been traveling this road for automail repairs? Was it really just a few years ago, that he and Winry began to "experiment" with their emotions?

His heart fluttered. His stomach pinched.

On the table back in Central City, he had left a note for his brother that read, Hey Al – I'll be back later. If I'm not back by Friday night just go ahead and get on a train for Risem. okay? See ya – Ed He had gathered up two shirts, two pairs of boxers, and his other two pairs of jeans, shoved them into his bag, tugged on his black-brown aviator jacket, pushed up the collar, ran a hand through his hair, and kicked his shoes on as he trudged down the three flights of stairs to the front lobby of the apartment, locking the door behind him as he went.

His stomach growled. Edward frowned childishly, his strolling falling to a nervous stomping as he made his way up the sloping road towards the outskirts of town. The land around him was bare except for tall grasses and weeds, and faintly he could hear the city below, hidden in the lower hills. Despite nearing midnight there was still activity – and, living in the capitol of Amestris, he knew that wasn't uncommon, even for a premature city like this one.

For a moment, the blonde wondered if Alphonse would be worried. No, he supposed; he would know where he was. He was, after all, his brother. If he knew anybody well, it would be his blood relative and best friend. Right?

Edward threw his head back and laughed loudly up at the sky as he had a sudden, fleeting image pass through his muddled brain. His thoughts were already scrambling and writhing around like an epileptic snake-pit, and that one sharp picture his mind conjured up tickled him to fucking death.

Momentarily, he saw his younger brother shoving some girl at the bookstore up against a wall, ravaging her, feeling her, being altogether what he could not see his brother being – all when he knew his older brother was not there to snap and rip a girl to pieces.

Edward's mirth died down and he heard something bound across the dirt road in front of him – a rabbit, he thought. He spread into a crooked grin and hurried up his pace. With every step he took, his thoughts spoke louder and louder and he became more and more fidgety. Glancing up and down the path, he wondered if he'd forgotten the way to the house; if maybe he had miscalculated how long the road would take from the station. But if he remembered correctly, you'd be able to see the houses on the hill from the platform. Wasn't that true?

The blonde heard the sleepy gurgle of the river and turned his head in the direction of the sounds as he walked. His grin faded into a smile as he recalled the times he and Winry had run down the hills and played around at the river – the times he'd splashed her, or he'd tripped into the water, or the times they'd lain on the banks and talked. Something inside of him quivered and his smile faded altogether. He looked forward again, switching his bag to the other shoulder.

He could see the house now. In the darkness, it was a light grayish color. There was a light on in the window that opened up into the living room; Edward's chest pinched and he frowned deeply. Why was she still up? What was she doing?

He had reached the front door when he heard the elderly dog inside, paws scraping the wooden floor as he padded towards the threshold, whimpering and yapping weakly. He barked once, and then the thud hit Edward's ears, telling him he'd sat down directly in front of the door to wait for the intruder to be revealed. Regardless of the noises of the night blanketing him, the faint city noises, the river's smooth sloshing and flowing, Edward heard someone walking across the front room. The house was too quiet for his liking.

Beyond the door, he heard Winry's voice, muffled by the house's structure. "Hey, Den, who's that?" she cooed, her voice oddly high and bubbly for that of a near-twenty-year-old. Edward's lips twitched as he attempted to keep from smirking. For a few seconds, he felt like the bad boy who snuck up to the girl's window and threw rocks until she helped him sneak in. He had to press his hand to his mouth to hide his grin and prevent his laughter.

The door opened slowly, just a few inches at first. A bright blue eye and half a cherubic face appeared, then half a body, then a whole threshold, and a blonde woman holding the door open, standing there in a sweater and jeans, hair falling to curls near the end of her ribcage, staring with wide sapphire eyes that ate up her whole face. "Ed?" she said, brows rising. Her cheeks flushed and she broke into a smile that was as happy as happiness could ever be put into physical form. Edward's chest tightened up and for a few moments he felt like crying.

Looking at her, smelling her, stepping into the house and wrapping his arm around her, pulling her close to his body and pressing his nose into her neck, feeling her, hearing her, the dog standing up again and nosing against his thigh; Edward realized just how right his theory was, how much they needed it, how much he loved Winry Rockbell.

She patted his back a few times, and then pulled away from him, looking at him with a worried gleam in her eyes, lips puckering into a faint frown. "Edward…what? What are you doing here?"

He shrugged, closing the door behind him. He dropped his bag and offered her a boyish grin, dropping into a crouch and hugging Den's broad, furry neck gently. "Decided to stop by. What are you doing up, anyway, missy? You need some beauty sleep."

"What?" Winry squealed, smacking the back of his head and pouting down at him as he laughed. "Shut up! Actually, I've been pulling all-nighters all week and I just woke up today at lunch time, and I haven't been sleeping well anyway."

"Aww, somebody a little restless?" Edward tilted his head, pressing his nose against the elated old dog's head. Winry dropped to her knees in front of him, ruffling the dog's ears like a child's hair. Looking to her knees, her pout faded, and as Edward began to rise to his feet again, she threw herself at him, locking her arms around his neck and pressing her body against his. Her knees hit his and he lowered back against his heels again, blinking.

"Are you…okay?" he questioned, trying to pull her away to look her in the eye. She clung to him tighter, and leaned in towards his ear, murmuring softly, "Ed…I've been waiting for you again…I don't like that…"

"I – " Edward cut off, snapping his mouth shut, wrapping his arms around her body and letting his lashes lower as he simply focused on the way her body felt against his. She sighed into his neck, then pressed her lips to his ear, sighing again against it.

"I had…dreams about you," she whispered, sounding nearly ashamed. Edward swallowed, his stomach pinching up. She sounded like a nervous little girl with her first crush. He stroked his hands up and down her back, pressing his nose to her warm, soft cheek. Den nosed at their shoulders, and a thought struck Edward as clear as his previous Alphonse-and-the-Girl image.

This is what family feels like. This is what home feels like. This is how I'm supposed to be.

Winry pulled away after a moment, peering at Edward from below her wispy bangs. They'd gotten longer since the last time she'd cut them, and she was constantly jerking her head to clear her view of them. Her eyes bore into his and he looked at her silently, lips parted. He could feel his body heating up, feel his insides twisting around; the look in her eyes was clutching onto him and squeezing desperately, begging him, as if she could read his thoughts.

"I love you," he blurted. Winry recoiled, blinking, brows furrowing. He bit the inside of his lip, wondering if it was the wrong thing to say, then shook his head rapidly, smashing his mouth up to hers. She opened her lips a bit, kissing him back as he leaned on her, kissing her slowly, softly. She clung to him tighter, fingernails scraping against his coat as she scrabbled not to fall backwards off her knees, and at the thought she giggled into his mouth.

Pulling away, Winry whispered against his lips, "I love you, too. Is that all you came to say? Couldn't you use the phone?"

"It's not the same, you know that," Ed mumbled, pushing Den away with his left forearm. Den whined. "I'm sorry," he mumbled quickly, and hugged her tighter against him.

"What? Why?" Winry murmured, giving up and letting his arms keep her from toppling backwards. The black mutt plopped down heavily beside him, resting his snout against their thighs.

"Because. I kept you waiting again. Now come on, I want to show you something."

Winry's face lit up and her eyes locked onto his, burning in the inaudible way that she was so good at; the way that told him just how much she cherished him, because she had no way to otherwise. Obviously, he guessed, she really had been waiting again. She'd been waiting for him to come to the realization that he had to do something. Edward's stomach dropped and his sly smile faded away a bit.

"Shh," she said, reading his thoughts again. She pushed a finger to his lips, then trailed it off down his chest, leaning in against his face and whispering against his chin, keeping her eyes locked on his. He noted that his expression must be utterly defenseless and wondered if every one of his emotions was playing across it at the same time now; Winry kissed him softly, her hand moving down lower and lower. He stood up quickly, staring down at her firmly, blushing. He held out his hand and she giggled at him as she took it.

Den lay curled by the front door, resting his head atop Edward's bag, whining, ears drooping slightly as he watched the two scurry up the stairs.

-

Winry lay gracefully on her bed, body curved, her legs spread a bit and her knees bent gently. Her hair was flowing out about her shoulders and the bedding, one arm sprawled up and curled about her head, the other laying across her stomach. Edward stood at the foot of her bed, staring at her, brows furrowed, looking childishly as if in thought. She smiled, letting her lashes lower a bit more.

Finally, her smile faded, and she spread her legs a bit more, sliding her fingers up her stomach, letting them guide her shirt up past her ribs, but stopping it at the beginning curves of her breasts.

Edward peered down her body towards her lap. He knew she was watching. She spread her legs to taunt him, or maybe to plead him. His heart began to flutter rapidly, and he felt himself starting to get hard. For a moment he wondered if this was still just one of his dirty dreams, but when she spoke and his stomach muscles tensed and he shivered in response, he knew it wasn't.

"Edward," she said, her voice soft and alluring. The lamp was across the room, the light from it dimmed. "I know what you're thinking. I know what you have been thinking. But you know what? I love you. I've always loved you."

"I've always loved you, too," he butted in quickly, pressing his knees onto the edge of the mattress, his eyes still resting on her upper thighs.

"Shh," she breathed, arching her back, legs twitching open more. "Listen to me for a minute, baby…"

His skin crawled with another shiver. He swallowed.

"I've been waiting since we both first talked about it. Remember when we both started talking about love? Remember when we decided we were in love? I've been waiting a long time. I know you have been too. Ed. Edward, please. I've been waiting for you to realize this, too. Please. Stop leaving me."

Edward's heart gave a suicidal leap into his throat. He flicked his eyes up to hers, saw her smile, saw her eyes, and immediately he looked back to her flat, bare stomach. Her black panties were stretched smoothly along her milky skin, and her bare, curling toes brushed along his thighs. He jumped, eyes widening.

"Ed…you're like a little kid," she whimpered.

His pride stung.

"Be quiet," he grunted, crawling on top of her. Her smile twitched up further, her eyes meeting his warmly. He peered down at her, lips parted, brows furrowed. Winry's soft, warm hands slid up his arms and rested on his shoulders, smoothing along them reassuringly. She arched her back more, letting her panties-clad crotch smooth along his boxers. He shuddered. Her smile faded and she shivered in turn.

"Winry," he muttered, pressing his nose to her cheek. "I'm sorry."

"No," she murmured, moving her hands up and down his back, pulling his T-shirt up some with her fingers. "Don't be sorry. Just make up for it."

Edward kissed her neck, up and down her smooth, sweet-smelling skin; she tilted her head, her eyes closing, breathing in through her nose, as he trailed his lips along her slender neck. Her entire body was warm, fitting perfectly on his, as always. He slid his hands down her bare stomach, then back up, fingers edging into the folds of shirt. She sighed in content and he felt his cock stiffen up a bit more.

Her arms wound around his neck securely and her thighs brushed his. He straddled a bit more gently, lowering himself just enough so that he could still glide his fingers around her body. Which he did, thank you.

He slowly dusted his hands down her stomach. She shivered. He slipped his hand into her panties, feeling the faint, scraping pubic hairs she had obviously shaved off. He wanted to ask her, Do you shave all the time? but he didn't. He kissed up behind her ear, licking and nipping at her skin. She grunted with a high pitched, womanly grace, sighing at the same time. She rolled her body to the side, her hips going upwards. His finger separated the lips of her pussy, already warm and getting sticky-wet.

She squeaked gently as his finger dragged over her clit. Her fingernails raked lightly down and then back up his back. His muscles twitched, and then quivered. She tugged his shirt over his head and he looked at her, an innocent disappointment written on his face as Winry giggled at him. He took his hands away from her body and she threw his shirt elsewhere, then wrapped her arms around his neck again, pulling him down for a hard kiss.

Moving his lips against hers, he pushed his hand back between her legs. She breathed into his mouth, muttering a soft, "Oh…" as he started to fumble around with the growing lump that was her clit. His fingers began to get wetter, and her hips bucked up against him again. Her legs opened up a bit more.

Edward nosed off into her ear, kissing and breathing on her neck. One of her hands scrambled for his free one, pulling it up into her shirt and pressing it on her breast. He lifted his head, startled, looking at her with a worried look in his eyes. She nodded, eyes half-open, her head tilted back.

He thumbed over her nipple, amazed at how big her breasts had gotten since they were younger. She groaned, rocking upwards against him. He grunted, feeling his erection tighten, feeling his muscles quiver. She shoved him gently, holding his shoulders and rolling over on top of him, pressing her warm body roughly on his. He blinked up at her, his breath beginning to come rapidly. His stomach twisted.

"Do it again," she breathed. He fumbled with her nipple a bit faster; she buried her face deep into his neck, groaning loudly. She jerked her hips downwards, pressing her crotch against the obvious lump in his boxers. Her hands curled on his shoulders like a cat's kneading paws, and she pressed harder against his groin. He hardened more, back arching now in turn to hers, his eyes closing halfway. He drew in a breath, his hand finding her panties again, the other fondling her other nipple.

Winry's body jerked atop his, and she grabbed onto his shoulders tight. Her crotch was moister, hotter; Edward's fingers crawled along towards her clitoris again, and he shuddered, groaning, wondering why it had taken him this long to realize what he had to do. Lying there beneath her, feeling how soft and wet and warm her pussy was, feeling her squirm atop him, his heart pounding, his dick getting harder and harder, dizzy and heaving breaths, feeling her breast and her breath on his neck…he had always loved her. And he did love her. She felt so good; she was so fucking hot, so sexy, so attractive…

"Edward, please," Winry groaned into his ear, kissing and licking at it hungrily. He rolled his head away and back again, drawing in a whistling breath, body bucking up against hers. She whined gently, brows furrowing. He gasped. "Ed…please…fuck me, okay? Please, please, please, I'm so wet and tight…"

His erection grew. He rolled back over on top of her. The bedding twisted below them.

"Ed, Ed, Ed," she squealed as he fingered her clit, pinching it gently, fondling how large and wet it was becoming. He let his tongue and lips trail up her neck as he ground down against her, squeezing her breasts and feeling her twist and buck and pant.

She grabbed his face and narrowed her eyes, chest heaving up on his as she breathed. "Edward," she said sharply. "Fuck me."

Edward grunted, brows furrowing, looking down at her, his lips open still. "You're so…I…don't know," he said quickly. Beautiful, he wanted to say. "Sexy. Wonderful…if anyone else ever touches you, I swear to god I'm going to rip them to fucking pieces. I don't wanna be with anyone but you. God, you feel really good, Winry…I'm sorry I made you wait. I lo – "

She cut him off by catching his mouth in hers, kissing him sloppily, hungrily. Her fingers dug gently into his cheeks. He pulled her panties down and pushed over her clit with both thumbs. "Oh," she cried, bucking up on him. He grunted again, breathier. She stroked his back, stroked his ass, clutched him tighter to her. Edward spread her legs a bit more, and she jerked her body upwards, letting her bare, wet pussy grind against his lower abdomen and boxer-clad, stiff cock. He pressed his lips to her neck, pulling his hard-on out of the cotton fly of his boxers. She rolled her body upwards as he let his head brush her slit.

Winry tossed her head to the side, panting, gasping, smelling him, feeling him, hearing him, keeping her eyes shut tight. She could feel herself throbbing, feel herself getting tighter and wetter and hotter. He used his fingers and pushed her petal-soft lips apart, felt him guide his cock against her opening. Edward pushed in, and paused; Winry groaned loudly, feeling him stretch her entrance gently, felt him stiffen more, half inside her, at the sound of her ecstasy.

"Go, please," she said, sounding nearly hysterical with lust. He rocked his hips downwards, shoving into her hard and fast, her the cold air becoming the tight, wet walls of her pussy. They squeezed on him, sent rapturous tremors up through the muscles of his lower stomach. Her back arched, causing him to go in deeper, and she let out a shrieking moan, pressing her face roughly into his shoulder, her open lips wet on his bare skin. Automatically, he began to thumb over her nipple again, massaging her breast gently.

She was going crazy. She was writhing beneath him, gasping, moaning, sweating, grabbing onto him and pulling him closer on her. He was rolling his body atop hers, coming half out of her and shoving in deeper. He was groaning without realizing it, and wondered if he was seeming just as crazy. Her mouth found his ear and her breath huffed against his sticky skin.

"Edward…Edward," she whimpered. "You're hard…you're big…oh…my…"

He opened his mouth to tell her how hot she was, how tight she was squeezing on him, and all that came out was a breathy, cracking, "Ungh…"

"Oh…I love you, I love you," she squealed, clinging onto him. She pushed up hard on him, his balls brushing against her lower crotch and upper thighs. She squeezed her legs on him, and her walls spasmed gently on his cock.

It ended too fast. But it ended good. It ended deliciously good.

He could feel his climax coming, and he knew that she was getting there as well. Edward ducked his head down, his mouth finding her nipple, his tongue and lips flicking against her pink, velvet-soft skin. Her nipple hardened, and his fingers found her other one. She liked it when he messed with her breasts; he could tell. She would jerk under him roughly, her pussy would squeeze tighter than ever, and her moans and cries would get louder and breathier. Her entire body was wet and heated; he was sweating and shivering at the same time.

Abruptly, her walls contracted and rippled hungrily on his cock, and she cried out, her body arching up as sharply as if she were possessed. Edward groaned loudly, coming hard and thoroughly inside of her, her pussy tightening and squeezing so hard on him that it nearly hurt. She squirmed, moaning repeatedly, making a noise each time she exhaled. He rolled onto his back, arching up into her more. She seemed to come again, shuddering and hunching forward on him. He hugged her as close as he could atop him, his heart racing, his head light, his vision blackening from his heavy breathing. He shut his eyes, she buried her face in his neck, and both breathed with painful exhilaration. Both bodies were hot, wet, weak.

Winry lay limp atop him for a moment, before she slowly eased off of him, and rolled away, curling up next to him. Edward realized her panties were still stretched across her thighs. He reached down to pull them up for her, but she stopped him, smiling with a red face and a sheepish, little girl-ish look in her eyes.

"I'll…I'll just change, it's okay," she murmured, running her other hand down his stomach, lower abdomen, and then down his shaft. He shivered, eyes rolling back gently, his back arching again. She immediately pulled away as if she had hurt him, staring, and then she giggled and buried into his chest.

"Oh…my fucking christ," he grumbled after a minute, pressing his face into her hair. He inhaled deeper, closing his eyes again, wrapping his arms around her body and holding her against him. She tucked him gently back into his boxers.

"Good, hunh?" She giggled again.

"Fucking awesome!" he said loudly, voice squeaking. Winry rubbed her nose up and down his bare chest, hugging him in turn.

"I love you," she murmured.

"Yeah. Love you, too. Wanna do it again?"

"Keep dreaming, dirty boy," Winry said, grinning, tracing her finger along his lower lip. He kissed her finger, rolling to the side, curling up against her in turn.

After a moment, he nosed against her forehead. "I'm not leaving," he whispered. She flinched down against him, her face hidden.

"There's…always room here for you, Edward," she mumbled, looking up at him with loving eyes. She tried to smile and failed, and he kissed her forehead again.

"I know. It's home, hunh?"

"Yeah. Home."

"Sorry again, that I made you wait."

"'Good things come to those who wait'. Right?"

"No more waiting, though. I promise."

She pinched his side, grinning up at him as he grunted in sulking response. He glanced down her body and realized that, when lying down, he was actually a little taller. He ran his knee along her legs, loving how long and smooth they were.

"Welcome home," she breathed.

"Yeah," he said, and rested a hand on the curve of her waist and hip.

"Excuse me, don't get settled down yet!" Winry laughed, rolling away from him again, holding his hand and stroking her thumb along his knuckles, smiling at him. "I still have to change, lover boy."

Edward snorted. "Whatever. You should be a porno star. You're really sexy."

"Keep dreaming!" she squealed, and hopped off the bed, hurrying to the dressed as her shirt fell down to her waist and she wriggled out of her soiled panties.

He rolled onto his side and watched her, watched every part of her as she changed. Yeah, he was sorry he'd made her wait so long. Yeah, he was sorry he'd never showed her how much he really loved her until now. Yeah, he wanted to move out of Central City and come back home for good.

She turned halfway and eyed him, smiling. He grinned in return, eyes falling half-shut. Nobody could ever tell them again that they were just stupid little kids, that they didn't know what such adult feelings were. He was sure of it now, and the fact that they'd waited for their entire lives and shared the mutual ache for such a long time proved it. Tomorrow he'd go back to Central and quit his job, pack up his stuff, inform Alphonse of his intentions, and then buy a one-way ticket to Risembool.

At least now, there would be no more waiting.

OWARI.

A/N:D Smut. And fluff. Ooh.